Last Second Miracle
by Lione 'Tabuukilla' Fortuna
Summary: Wishing for a familiar like Louise's that would also save her nation, Henrietta performs the summoning. From out of a peaceful retirement far away from battle, a Griffin commander is brought back into the fray. Moved by her plight, he accepts the impossible task set out before him: to guide Tristain to victory as a commander and bring about a last second miracle.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: **Asynchronous Necessity

* * *

Henrietta nodded to herself as she held her wand in her hands. She hadn't summoned a familiar just yet, but after witnessing what Louise had summoned along with what he was capable of and with the upcoming war—something that was definitely going to happen due to the attempted attack on Tarbes, it would be helpful to have one. If she could summon someone like the legendary familiar, it would be—

She shook her head, banishing such thoughts from her mind. No, no, that wasn't what she was after. She definitely also wasn't after the image of a knight that was always loyal to her, much like Wales had been, and much like how Louise's familiar treated his master. That wasn't what she desired at all.

Her heart sank.

_How unbefitting of me, I shouldn't be having such a sinful desire. I should be summoning a familiar to assist me, not because of some silly, fleeting emotion…_

Recomposing herself and reminding herself of the duty she held as the _acting_ queen, she closed her eyes and began to cast the spell _Summon Familiar._

* * *

The last thing I remember was going to bed in my old uniform, just like old times. Even though it had been years since I commanded T-Dolls, I still always had the urge to put the clothes on again. Every time I did, I'd be assaulted with a wave of nostalgia… and a bittersweetness of comrades lost and comrades who I parted ways with.

Those girls were willing to follow me to the ends of the earth, but I suppose it would just hurt too much to see them every day. To be reminded of all the fighting. Of all the death. Having retired peacefully, I retreated to a secluded village where no one knew my name. It had taken a while to build their trust, but soon enough, I was one of them.

However, this certainly couldn't have been the last thing I did, as when I woke up, I was about to be kissing a purple haired young woman in a white dress in the middle of a courtyard at night, my brown eyes reflected in her matching purple eyes. I'm fairly certain I was not drinking, either.

She says something to me, but I can't make it out. Didn't really use French guns, it sounds a lot like French. I muster together my knowledge and say back "I can't understand you" in incredibly broken French. She looks surprised, then waves an _honest to God magic wand_ as there are no other words to describe the silvery rod with a star tip, and then taps me on the head.

"Better?" She asks, with her voice sounding somewhere like she's in her late teenage years. The dress she's wearing certainly doesn't hide anything either, I'd have pegged her as being much older if I had been given only her silhouette based on it.

"What did you just do." I ask firmly, though it comes off as more a statement with my delivery as I look around the area. It looks like a castle. No guards on the ramparts. Bushes where people could be hiding. We're alone though. More importantly the moon isn't white in the sky, either that or I've gone insane as there's blue and red moons in the sky. Yes, two moons.

"I… I summoned you." She replies back to me, seemingly disbelieving of what she had done. "I summoned you to be my familiar."

I wrack my brains trying to figure out what this means. Familiar? I know in old storybooks that was something wizards had, but they were lizards and birds, not people.

"Um…"

She looks rather nervous as she turns away from me, looking towards the sky.

"Ah, um, please come with me." She says, getting up to her feet.

"Who are you?" I ask, also getting up, where I now stand at least a foot to two feet taller than her.

I don't know what this familiar business is, but I at least want to know who these people are. God knows there was that report that came in one time about travelers from "another world", so can't hurt to know who I'm dealing with. Then again, I'm getting into this too quickly. I suppose it comes with all the bullshit I dealt with during my time serving with Griffin. Nothing ever went quite according to plan, so improvising and… _playing things by ear_ is how you get things done.

"My name is Princess Henrietta de Tristain."

Royalty, huh…

"Alright, I'll bite. You're going to have to explain a lot of things to me, though."

She takes me inside through some fanciful and well lit hallways. I'm able to piece together this looks like some sort of medieval era place. Coat of arms doesn't match anything I've seen before, either. Though that little silver rod of hers, it really does look like a damn wand you'd see in a movie.

"Hey, is magic real?" I ask it just as a test, running a hand through my hair, which I'm glad is still a dark brown, despite the stress I've been through. Might see an early grey, though.

"Oh, you know about magic?"

You've got to be kidding me.

I close my eyes and shake my head. "I'm afraid not. I just wanted to confirm whether or not I was going crazy."

"Ah… well, you should be able to get acclimated quickly!" She turns around and gives me a nice smile. Likely rehearsed for public events. "Um, Louise has a familiar like you, a person, and he didn't know anything about magic because he said he came from a different world, but he learned very quickly."

So there's someone like me here? Different world, too? This all seems too insane. But I'll play along.

As we keep walking, I'm informed about several things. I was summoned here to be a familiar, just like a lizard or something. I'm supposed to help her out and do stuff, but that can be saved for later. In addition, she's the acting ruler of a kingdom named Tristain in a land named Halkeginia. Acting ruler because her father is dead and her mother is in no mental state to run a kingdom, so it falls on her, and of course, she hasn't been crowned Queen _just_ yet due to all of the stuff happening. She also happens to be seventeen.

She stops in the middle of her explanation. "So, may I ask your name? I'm so sorry, I've been in a rush, and…"

"It's fine. Oliver Penn Baker. Retired commander. Age thirty two. If you truly mean it when you say 'another world', then I guess I am from there, too."

"Retired commander…?!"

"Yes." I gesture towards my uniform. It's nothing special, really. White shirt, black tie, black slacks, black combat boots. Over it though, is Griffin's own jacket. Red-maroon that runs down to just below the knees, two sets of parallel buttons that run down the middle to close it, black, accentuated cuffs. "Well, I'm in uniform, but they let me keep it out of nostalgia. Why, are you…"

I reach down and catch her, preventing her from sinking to her knees.

"So it really is true…" She says in an awed whisper, her eyes staring beyond me and into the end of the hall.

"What is?"

"It's just… they say Summon Familiar gives you a familiar that you need most."

The pieces click together in my head. There's a war coming. Against insurmountable odds. Anyone could figure that out based on that information and how overjoyed she looks right now. Part of me becomes suspicious of her, but… the tears in her eyes, perhaps I've been moved by them.

"My apologies, I…"

"Let's get where we're going first, then we can talk."

"Of course, fami… may I call you Oliver?"

"It is no issue."

"Then, let's go…"

She continues to tell me information as we go. A little while ago, a border town named Tarbes was attacked. Due to a 'miracle' that a 'Louise' and her familiar were able to create, they were able to repel the invasion force. However, it is only a matter of time before they come back. Tristain is a mostly pacifistic nation, without a strong military force behind it. Most of its military power comes from its nobility class, who have their own private armies and resources.

Essentially, local governance is very strong, central governance is quite weak. By keeping in favor with these noble families, they are able to gather troops. However, people are using this as an opportunity to gather more power and press the central government into giving them favors in order to get their approval. In addition, due to the invading force utilizing religious elements, as they say they wish to unite the various kingdoms and take back their holy land from elves—yes, I said _elves_ like from Lord of the goddamn Rings—there is considerable approval for this invading force.

In short: Henrietta is on the brink. She even has considered surrender in order to spare the bloodshed.

"You're… taking all this rather well…" She says, wiping her eyes.

"You could say that I'm used to insane scenarios." I say with my eyes closed, shaking my head. "Take out this whole 'magic' business and it's nothing new to me. In fact, if I hadn't woke up to you kissing me or in a place that was clearly foreign, I'd have assumed it was an entirely normal day."

"I see… oh…"

"What is it?"

"It might be those runes… wait…"

"Hm?"

"I never cast 'Contract Familiar' on you. I was about to seal the pact, but then you woke up."

"Is it necessary?"

She turns away, looking rather glum. "It isn't necessary, but it would make things more... convenient for me. But… I've heard some things about that spell. Like that it makes your familiar subservient to you. I've also heard stories where if the mage dies, the familiar continues to long for their master. I might be a mage, but… you are very clearly a human. I don't know if I could make myself treat you like an animal, nor would I wish to treat you like any other commoner."

I already got the gist of the nobility class, but yes, it does seem there are nobility members—distinguished by their ability to use magic—that look down on commoners, those who cannot utilize magic. However, it seems that dealing with self-serving nobility has say, cleared up such visions of grandeur for her, where she is able to more sympathize with common folk who can't use magic. Thus, she does not look down on me.

"Where I am from, the nobility class was done away with a long time ago." I say calmly, a hand on my chin. "It hardly matters, though. I would much rather prefer not to have something like that on me, it sounds like… brainwashing."

I close my eyes and mentally curse out Parapluie. The bastards responsible for it can rot in hell for all I care.

"Mhm…"

"We'll work something out later, I suppose. I'll be willing to serve with you, familiar or not. It seems like… you could really use the help. Call it kind of strange that I'm willing to help so easily, but it's not the strangest thing I've ever come across."

That… and I suppose my place really always has been the battlefield. Even if I say I was glad for the peace in my life, a part of me always longed to be back in the commander position.

I guess it's just fate stringing me along once again. You want to play your games, then, world? Alright, fine. They didn't called me "The Hail Mary" for nothing.

* * *

"Haaa…"

"You doing okay, Spectre?"

A young woman with ashen white hair that seemed to glow purple in the dark nodded at her companion before adjusting the brown gloves that went up to just past her elbows.

"I'm fine, PPK. Just a bit chilly, it looks like fall, maybe winter's on the approach here." She mumbled, pushing down her black skirt that hung over her mismatched stockings-one black, one brown.

The person she was talking to, a brunette in what could only be described as a maid outfit (although, she _was_ missing her left fishnet stocking, which was currently being substituted by a grey sock) smiled.

"Well, hopefully the next village we get to won't treat us so strangely. Or maybe we might be able to run into some robbers again. This place's currency is quite strange~"

"Have you been able to get in contact with anyone?"

"Still nothing on my comms."

The one known as Spectre gave another sigh, holding her gun in one hand and stretching before resuming her two handed grip. "Alright. I doubt we'll be able to find anything, though. This place doesn't look like home at all. It'll be a miracle if we're able to get anything."

"Mhm, mhm~"

"Alright. Let's keep on the move, then. Even if it's unlikely, I'd like to find a resupply point sooner or later. Being down to only a magazine and a half is pretty concerning."

By the day-night cycle of this place, which clearly was not Earth, they had spent at least two weeks wandering around. The locals seemed to speak some variation of French, making Spectre really miss having FAMAS around. She did catch onto a word that sounded like _"Germania"_, though the locals could not point them in the right direction. Not to mention they couldn't read any maps, so they had to resort to hand gestures… for what few locals were willing to talk to them.

It might have been the way they dressed, but it certainly didn't match the locality. It might have been a smart idea, or so Spectre M4 thought, to have taken the clothing of the bandits they had killed before via some traps meant to guard their location as they weren't sure if this was just deep in SF territory, somehow. They might have been able to blend in had they taken them, even without speaking the language.

Regardless, they had staked everything on reaching this 'Germania', which sounded close enough like Germany that it was worth a shot in the dark. Granted, it hadn't been too bad. The land itself hadn't been particularly harsh, making the journey more about disappointment than actual destruction.

But in the end, she still wanted to at least make sure they could, at the very least, come back into contact with any Griffin commanders.

Surely, there had to be one somewhere...

* * *

"You summoned a—!"

"P-please, calm down!" Henrietta says, trying to pacify the young blonde woman in front of us that she called for after we talked for a bit. She can't possibly be older than twenty three, yet her eyes are incredibly sharp. A born leader, someone who's seen things. She seems to be in a uniform. Black shirt, teal cloak that opens up down in the front, belt at the waist. Medieval combat boots, armored around her ankles, and armor on her triceps, along with what appears to be a holster and a sheath. Her hair is cut short, coming down to only just past her chin. Lastly, she has a white cape on her-though this one seems to be more decorative. "Agnes, please calm down!"

I see her stop and take a deep, calming breath as she closes her eyes. She then looks at me, glancing me over.

"Are you sure he's a familiar? He looks more like a noble. Princess, I swear upon the Founder, if you have found yourself a suitor, then tell me, I swear I will not reveal it."

"He is not a suitor of mine!" Henrietta suddenly shouts, face going red.

"I see."

"I must agree with her here, ma'am." I say, straightening up. "Your princess summoned me here just this night, but she did not use the spell 'Contract Familiar' after some consideration, as she did not want to risk its more… unsavory effects on a human being. Additionally, I can understand you due to a spell your princess cast on me."

She looks me dead in the eyes, as if searching for a hint of deception in them. However, she finds none, and her look softens.

"I understand. Princess, you should come out with this news as fast as possible, in order to prevent further slander to your name. If anyone were to start circulating rumors, it would be damaging to you. It's hard enough as it is already."

"I understand this, Agnes, that is why I have called you here. If you two would please introduce yourselves, while I make some tea. If you'll excuse me."

We both wait for the door to close before giving each other another glance.

"If you're a liar, you're an incredibly good one." She says rather pointedly, that hard look to her face that reminds me a bit of Helian returning. "Who are you?"

"Oliver Penn Baker, retired military commander. I'm from another world, as I found out not only two hours ago. Apparently there's another familiar running around that's like me."

The silence hangs in the air for a few seconds before she extends her right hand.

"Agnes Chevalier de Milan, Royal Musketeer."

I take her hand and give it a firm shake. I'm well aware of the fact that she's testing me. I let go in time with her, my hands returning to my side.

"Where did you serve on the command chain?"

"Field commander."

"What area of your military?"

"Infantry deployments."

"No medals on your uniform?"

"I didn't want to jingle when I walked around base, kept them in a chest for when it was ceremony time. At home, there was no need for them, so they hung in a frame."

Once again, more silence. However, I notice by her posture she seems a little less tense around me. I suppose I've bought myself a modicum of trust.

"I suppose you've been told of our situation, then?"

"I have."

"Explain it to me, then."

"A short overview is that your central army is incredibly weak and limited due to a culture of pacifism that normally rules Tristain. The nobility hold a majority of your military might, so you have to kneel to their demands in order to get them to even fight on your behalf. This in turn creates a feedback loop where their demands will advance their power and weaken the central government. However, due to the unpopularity of the war, you're unable to rouse the general populace to fight."

She closes her eyes and nods. "Alright."

"Alright?"

"I'll trust you for now."

After that, the door reopens, with Henrietta stepping inside, holding onto a tray with three tea cups and a teapot.

"You know, I thought you'd have maids for this sort of thing." I mumble as she gently places them down on the table.

"Well, it is late at night. Additionally, I can't have them see you for now. I would rather not risk it. Please, both of you, have a seat."

I wait for Agnes to sit down before I do the same, with Henrietta pouring tea for all of us. After she finishes doing so, she joins us and sits down at the table.

"As I said, I wanted to have this meeting so you we could discuss how to handle this." Henrietta says as Agnes and I straighten up in our chairs. "Oliver, we have already spoken about Contract Familiar. However…"

"I understand. However, is there an alternative marking option?"

"That is an option we could take. Something like a false branding. I could prepare something like that if you wish. However, if you are what you say…"

"Hm?"

"If you truly are a retired military commander, er, my apologies, I do not mean to insinuate you're a liar, it may just be trained speaking patterns. But, my main concern would be on how to use your talents."

I hear Agnes' slight surprise, although it certainly has more bite than what I was expecting. "You're already considering integrating him into the military…!?"

"Our backs are against the wall, Agnes…"

"I understand that, but to be so hasty—"

"I agree." I say, getting both of their attention. "It would be a very hasty decision, and I would need to get acquainted to what you have here, as compared to what I'm used to. If you truly mean to use my expertise, the best bet would be to use small scale operations. Post me somewhere like that, where I can establish myself in the 'proving grounds' as it were."

Henrietta nods. "I see… yes."

"Additionally, can I ask why you want to conceal myself as a familiar?"

"I… do not wish to attract too much attention. Additionally, I do not want people to get the wrong idea. The nobility is very much in control. If it gets out you are my familiar, they will try to spin it that it was nepotism or that I am trying to seize control."

"Understandable."

"Princess, may I speak with you outside?" Agnes says before I can say anything else.

"Hm? Yes, of course, Agnes. If you'll excuse us."

The two of them leave the room. I close my eyes and think. So she wants to conceal the fact I am a familiar to avoid negative optics. That's entirely understandable. Even though I can help her, she doesn't want to move too quickly.

After about five minutes, the two of them come back in and sit back down.

"Oliver, Agnes is offering to have you be the field commander of the Royal Musketeer Corps."

A sudden offering? However, I quickly see the motivations for it. It means I'm under watch by Agnes, who doesn't trust me too much, and additionally, it's likely her troops are loyal to her rather than to _me_. If I make a critical mistake or at some point reveal some sort of sinister nature, they will be able to waste me. So that's how it's going to be.

"I'm at your mercy, I suppose. But doesn't this not the solve the issue?" I say, hoping Henrietta can shed some light here.

"The Royal Musketeer Corps are not headed by any of the noble families, and it is entirely within my control. Additionally, the size of the unit is not too large, and most of the nobles overlook it due to none of them using magic. No one will think anything of it."

"I see. Just tell me where I'm going for this, then."

"Ah, excellent. I hope you're able to keep up, _commander_." Agnes says, emphasizing my claim. I suppose I am intruding on her area, so the slight hostility is understandable.

"Hmph." I give a snort. "I'd like to have a few days to get acquainted to your teams. I want to understand their capabilities so I can best direct them."

"I'm glad you're taking to it so quickly." Henrietta says with a smile. "I'll make the preparations. You'll need some credentials, after all, and I'll make the official appointment and announcement later."

Things are moving quickly, huh? Then again, I suppose the whole mess started the day I was posted, haha.

"Sounds good to me."

"Understood, Princess."

"Then, Agnes, please show our newest commander to a guest bedroom. If anyone asks, Oliver here is a travelling scholar. You have the keys, yes?"

"I understand, Princess, and yes, I have the keys. If you will please follow me."

I nod, getting up along with Agnes. I give a small bow to Henrietta before leaving with Agnes, walking through the halls. The guest bedrooms are apparently down a floor, as we have to take a staircase down.

"I would like to outline a few things before we begin." Agnes says, breaking the silence.

"Go ahead." I say as we make a right at the intersection.

"First, a reintroduction. I am _Captain_ Agnes Chevalier de Milan of the Royal Musketeer Corps. I am their acting field commander and head of the corp. In addition, the entire unit is made of female non-mages."

"Any particular reason?"

"If they're a mage, they'll refuse to use a firearm. If they're a man, they'll likely be a knight."

"Understandable. I suppose they won't take too nicely to me."

"They may or may not. However, since the Princess wills it, they'll listen."

I give a small nod as she holds up a key to me.

"Your key."

"Thank you." I say, taking it. "Though, before you go, I have one question. Who's your backup in there?"

"Her name is Sara, claims to come from a village named Springfield, though I've never heard of it. Might just be really backwater. A bit of an odd girl, but I guess you'll see. Seems to like my gun for some reason."

"Got it. Sorry for the sudden question, I just wanted to know who else I should know in the command structure. Good night then, Agnes."

"I'll come get you in the morning. Good night."

With that, I unlock the door and step inside. Looks fancy in here, comfy bed, drawer even if I won't need it, the like. The lights even turn on when I step inside. Magic sure is convenient here.

"Uh, off?"

And the room goes dark. Well then, that's pretty handy.

"On."

Once the lights are back on, I take off most of my uniform, stripping down to just my boxers, and then lying down in the bed. Best to keep that uniform as clean as I can until it can get washed. Alright, well… guess I better get ready for quite the strangest mission I've ever been given.

* * *

**Oh my God, I can hear you all say, _another_ project?**

**Okay, don't blame me. This one just got stuck in my head because of Deep Dive, and I felt like it could be fun. I've actually had this idea floating around since like, last year, but never did anything with it. But since Deep Dive is a thing, I decided to toss it up here. If you guys end up liking it, well hey, sure, why not, I'll work a bit on it. Truth be told I'm starting to not enjoy writing Armored Hearts, and figured something like this could be fun to do.**

**Not much to say as it's the intro chapter, just kind of showing off the situation and getting everyone ready for next time. Figured I'd introduce Oliver, get his relationships set with Agnes and Henrietta, as I think it's also a bit of a breath of fresh air to approach this from a different standpoint (i.e. not in Saito's shoes), and take a different style. I kind of wanted to push some more into getting situated as a commander, but figured I could save it for next time.**

**Anyways as for Spectre and PPK, well, as far as I remember in FoZ there was that spell that drags in things from Earth, so teeheehee. I mostly picked them because as much as I would love to just throw 5*s, gotta hold back a little bit, you know?**

**I liked making Agnes a bit of a hardass here, but it felt a bit understandable. Maybe pacing wise things seem a bit rushed, but I thought Oliver would take to the situation well and as a nod to the Blazblue crossover event, it's something he's had experience with. I also purposely left it ambiguous as to why he retired, i.e. not telling whether it was the SF battle being over or just wanting to leave the field. I think maybe it'll be good to explore something like that later, but no need to dump it all right now. Kind of wanted to experiment with that as well, sort of leaving the door open for potential hooks later.**

**Anyways, yeah. Fun times. I swear that I won't just like never update this story like all the other currently running _ones oh no whoops_. I guess let me know if you guys liked this one and want to see more of it?**

**See you guys next time lmao**

**Edit v1.1: Spectre and PPK noted to have used traps to kill humans, in order to maintain consistency as they are not explicitly noted to have Anti-Human protocols at this point in time.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: **Unexpected Assignment

* * *

"I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"You're not." I say, getting from my seat and giving a small bow as Henrietta enters the room. I already had asked her about customs here so I can better blend in, so doing things like bowing now in private will help for when it's time to actually do it in public.

"Ah, I see." Henrietta says as I sit back down in my chair while she makes her way past the stacks of books littered about the room. It's been about three days since I was summoned here, and while we wait for Agnes to round up all of her musketeers for the meeting, I've taken to learning as much as I possibly can about this world's capabilities, its history, and what technology we have available.

Perhaps the most important thing is that we don't have communicators, or at least, dedicated ones. Magic has generally filled the gap here, as there appears to be a spell that actually lets you communicate across distances. And due to the higher up positions such as army generals, heads of states, and so on being primarily filled by nobility and thus _magic users_, they have had no reason to innovate technologies such as telegrams or any other communication devices. Based on the world's capabilities, I would also say that my initial guess of medieval times is slightly incorrect. Architecture wise, definitely. Technologically speaking, though, they are perhaps just behind the Renaissance era, as again, magic has largely filled that gap. There is a great deal of stagnation, though, based on what I've read.

"—aker?"

I shake my head with a start, finding Henrietta standing in front of me.

"Ah, sorry. I had a thought pass through my head." I say, trying to assure her I'm fine.

"Mhm. Is there anything I can get you?"

"Not really. Oh, hold on." I say, getting back up and offering her my chair as I sit down on the table. "My apologies."

"Oh, thank you." She says, sitting down.

"Well, I suppose the only thing I would really need is more capital, haha. It would open up a lot of options compared to running this on a shoestring budget."

Henrietta gives a small, but sad smile. "Please forgive me for being so weak…"

"You don't need to apologize for it. At least not to me. Besides, I'm no political master, I wouldn't know the struggles you go through to keep everything here running."

Speaking of capital and budgets, communicators will have to be shelved for now. Innovating them will require time and money, with a lot of the latter, I assume. For now, I'll have to work with the fact that we at least have _some_ chemistry work, meaning that the most I have to work with is colored flames in order to signal, along with "signal bombs" as a way to use gunpowder for signalling. Nothing subtle like a communicator just yet.

"Mhm… but it would still be easier to win if we had resources, right?"

"Well, it never really hurt. What's our current situation?"

"Right now we're in a bit of damage control with the Tarbes incident and of all the lies and slander being spread about. My informants have also identified a high value target in the area. As your first mission, I'd like for you to seize him before he can make a move."

"Hmm, got it. A night time operation would be for the best for the element of surprise, but it's going to disadvantage our own troops if they're not used to fighting in night conditions."

"Perhaps you should go over it with Agnes when she returns."

"That would probably be for the best." I say as Henrietta then looks at a piece of paper I have on the desk.

"Ah, is this a list of equipment you'd like? I'll see what I can do." Henrietta says as she looks over it.

"I've organized it into what I believe is necessity and what is a "nice to have" based on what Agnes told me about the musketeers. However, I think they're already well equipped, so please don't think too much of it."

"Alright, Oliver."

"So, tell me about this high value target." I say, leaning back against the wall, still seated on the desk.

"Well, he is a cardinal within the church here. He's also a mage, so please be careful. My informants have told me that he plans to use this war to increase his own political standing. Due to the fact that there is a religious component to this 'Reconquista', by joining with them, and by pushing the church to give a formal acknowledgement to their movement, he might be able to advance himself within the church as well."

"I see. So, use this movement's apparent religious fervor to boost his own ranking. Sounds fairly standard. Not to mention if he manages to help hand your kingdom over, he'll likely be rewarded."

"Mostly likely rewarded like a traitor, though. Unless, of course, he was never truly loyal to me in the first place."

I nod in agreement to Henrietta's statement.

"May I ask if you're religious, Princess?"

"I believe in the religion of the Founder, yes, but I would not like to push the kingdom to war over it. My citizens are free to believe or not, I won't hold it against them."

I nod again, as I was just confirming my suspicions on what her stance was.

"May I ask what your opinion is of this 'Reconquista' is, Oliver?"

"It seems like a power grab. In fact, based on what you've told me, it does seem much like what's happening here. Lack of a central governance left the monarchy weak, allowing several nobles to conspire together in order to seize power. However, unlike you, your citizens had a far higher opinion of you, from what I've heard, which is what really allowed them to spark the movement. The religious angle to me seems tacked on, likely just meant to garner sympathy for their movement. It's a wise move, I would say, strategically."

"Hm?" Henrietta then sits up straighter, paying rapt attention.

"It allows them several things. One, that they can claim anyone who doesn't resist is not for the religion. By resisting, they can slander you by saying you're not a true believer, as they make claims about taking back your holy land. But if you do capitulate, I doubt they will allow you to remain in power. You'll become either a puppet leader or they'll just straight up remove you. It also means they've put ah…"

I pause, flipping through some of my notes.

"Ah, right, this Romalia, the kingdom of the church or something, in a tough spot. Why would they _not_ want to take back the holy land? But if they give their approval, they risk backlash due to the all the lives lost so far and the fact this war is unpopular. Additionally, why didn't they call for one earlier, if they so obviously approve of a united front? If they don't give their approval, then their legitimacy will be called into question. It's a good move, honestly."

Henrietta gives me a bigger smile. "And you say you're not a political master."

"This is all hindsight, of course. It is very easy to analyze how things went after a battle and figure out your blunders, much like any other battleground."

She laughs. "Perhaps I shall also have to appoint you to my cabinet as a political advisor?"

"Heavens, no. I'm not brave enough for politics."

We both share a small laugh at that.

"Can I ask what you intend to do with this high value target?"

"I have all the evidence ready, so I intend to have him arrested, bring him to trial, and expose his deeds. Additionally, I wanted to show you the evidence beforehand, as I am sure you have hesitations about arresting a man without being at least confident in his guilt."

"Yes, I'd like to see it, just so I can be sure."

"It will also serve as a good test run before the trial, and I believe all of this will rouse the populace."

"It could also demoralize them. Someone up so high working against you? It might have the opposite effect of what you intend."

"I am well aware of that. It is why I must choose my words carefully. Given the right circumstances and words, they will fight. They have to fight."

I put a hand on Henrietta's shoulder as she looks down and clenches her hands, her nails digging into palms. She looks up at me, and I quietly nod.

"Relax. It's only a possibility. I'm sure you know what to say."

"T… thank you, Oliver. But with the attack on Tarbes, the fact we were able to turn it around, and exposing the enemy within our midst… I do believe that the people will be roused to fight. By focusing the evidence more on his political motivations, it might also serve to discredit Reconquista's religious argument as well."

"Solid plan. Ah, well, I'm mostly done for now. If I could see that evidence?"

"Oh, yes. Right this way, Oliver."

* * *

"Attention! Line up, rank and file!" I hear Agnes yell as Henrietta and I approach the courtyard in the palace. I glance over at Henrietta, who only smiles as if this is completely normal. "We have two VIPs, look sharp!"

I count the amount of musketeers as we enter the courtyard, verifying it with the information I was given about two days ago, as Henrietta gave it to me along with the evidence against that cardinal. Eight groups of four, lined up according to the band on their sleeves. At the head of each line is a musketeer with two bands on their sleeves, likely denoting the leader. All of them are dressed like Agnes, though I notice the one heading the team with red bands seems to be eyeing me with curiosity. Something about her seems familiar.

"Sara!" Agnes barks.

"Sorry, ma'am." The leader of the red bands says, apparently caught staring. I note her light brown hair and green eyes. Something about her seems… very familiar. I can't quite put it together just yet.

"Hmph. Princess, they're ready." Agnes says, yielding the center of the courtyard to her.

I follow Henrietta up to the center, remaining about three steps back, stopping when she does and facing the troops.

"Good morning, Royal Musketeers. I've come with some news that I informed Captain Agnes of recently. I deeply apologize for springing this on you so quickly, but times are getting desperate."

"Permission to speak, Your Highness?" Agnes asks.

"Please, go ahead."

"I will say that this was my plan, so I'll take responsibility for it. This wasn't pushed onto me in any way. That is all."

"Thank you, Captain Agnes. Ahem, but as of today, this man, Oliver Penn Baker, a retired field commander who I have coaxed out of his retirement, will be your new field commander. Captain Agnes has performed her duties admirably, but we believe it might be good to have a dedicated strategist and field commander. You are some of the best Tristain has to offer, so I want to make sure you have the best chance out there."

The news, despite Agnes' warning, is met with a bit of resignation.

"Oliver, if you would?"

I nod, stepping forward.

"I know this is likely not a welcome change and that I am a stranger to you all. However, I will endeavor to do my best to ensure you all come home. Captain Agnes is already aware I commanded ground troops, most importantly ranged ground troops. I hope to get along with all of you, and more importantly, defend Tristain. Captain Agnes has informed me you are all a capable bunch, and I firmly believe in that. I'd like to take the time later to all individually talk with you and get to know all of you, but of course, at your convenience. Thank you."

With that, I step back, and Agnes takes the center position again. She gives them some more information and tells them that they'll be moving out in a few days for another assignment as Henrietta takes me off to the side.

"I think you made a good first impression."

"I wouldn't be so sure." I say as she gestures for me to follow. "We'll just have to see."

"I told Agnes to tell them where your office is, so they'll come and meet you."

I pause in my tracks. "Office?"

Henrietta turns around, giving me a small head tilt of surprise.

"Why, is something the matter?"

"I just didn't expect to be given something like that so quickly." I say, catching up with her.

"Well, the musketeers have a small barracks in the castle, so I thought it would be wise to repurpose one of the rooms close to it as your office. It would mean I can discuss things with you quickly, and you can also get to know the musketeers if you'll be working with them." Henrietta says as we walk along. She then holds out a small key and holds it out to me. "Here you are."

"This is rather sudden, but thank you. I just hope no one accuses you of favoritism." I say as I take the key.

Henrietta gives a bit of a bitter, self-derisive laugh. "It would not be the worst of words I have had hurled at me, Oliver."

We take a few more minutes down the corridors before Henrietta stops, gesturing at a door that clearly is for a corner office in this mess of corridors. I nod quietly before going to unlock the door, then step inside.

It's very austere, not exactly decorated. There's some fancy light green curtains and rugs, but other than that, not a lot to make it very 'home'y. There's a desk in the middle with a slightly glossy varnish on it, some cabinets, and the like that you'd expect to see in an office. Or at least, an office lacking modern comforts.

"Thank you." I say, turning around and facing Henrietta. "I'm amazed you put this all together so quickly. I hope it didn't cost much."

"It was the least I could do. And truth be told, I simply had furniture moved from other unused rooms here."

"Ah, of course. Well, it works all the same."

"An—oh, it seems someone is already here to see you. We can always talk later, yes?"

"Of course, your Highness." I say, knowing to use her title when there's other people around. I wait until Henrietta is clearly gone before calling out "Who is it?"

"Pardon my intrusion, sir." Sara, the girl from before, says, entering my office as I sit down in the rather comfortable wooden chair on the other side of the desk. I think it might be the red seat pillow. Regardless of that, though, once again, I can't help but feel like this girl is somehow familiar. The hair, the green eyes, where…?

I try to mentally change the color of her uniform in my mind, but nothing comes to mind exactly. I could swear I've seen something similar… but something's missing from it.

"Sara, right?" I ask, gesturing to the twin red stripes on her sleeves of the musketeer uniform.

"I'm glad you remembered." She says back, a motherly aura emanating from her smile. She doesn't seem like the type to be fighting with a squad of hardened musketeers, though. A bit too… carefree? "I simply wished to let you know that I'm confident you'll lead us to victory."

"You're quite sure for someone you've only just met." I say, narrowing my eyes a bit. "Why is it, then?

"Why, I have only the utmost faith in commanders from Griffin."

Commanders from Gri—

She gives a curtsy as I stand up from my chair, even though her hands grip the back part of her teal cloak due to the fact she doesn't have a skirt on, only the same black shorts that come down to maybe halfway down her thighs.

"T-Doll M1903 Springfield, reporting for duty, Commander Baker. I must say, I'm surprised to have found one of you here. My apologies for being out of uniform, but I'm still blending in."

My words finally come to me as the initial shock wears off.

I quickly move to close the door and then look at Sara, er, Springfield. "Tell me I'm not hallucinating right now."

"You are not, Commander."

"How… how are you _here_?"

"Things went off the rails on a mission. I believe we were hit with SF artillery fire by their roller artillery units, and when I came to, I was here. My dummies were not present, so I simply attempted to find a relay point. Fortunately, I ran into a kind woman in a carriage full of animals who apparently is a 'mage' straight out of a fairy tale, and was able to communicate with me after casting a 'spell', or so she claimed. After surviving for a few days, I came across Agnes' group. They had just lost a musketeer, and while I am not at the level of using my issued weapon due to etching, I can still fight, and assisted them. With that, I was taken in. Er, Commander, may I ask if this is truly another world, as it seems to be?"

"It has to be, or at least that's what I've been told. How are you still functioning, though?"

"As for taking orders, we are equipped with basic modules so that things like base patrol can be carried out without human intervention. Something like staying 'alive' is still within my grasp without being given orders. As for combat, in an emergency, I can instruct other humans on how to issue orders to me. Captain Agnes views it simply as a 'quirk' of mine, and it is how I was able to fight when I encountered them, by asking Captain Agnes to give me an order. Additionally, for that mission I was on before arriving here, I was given Anti-Human protocols, which have persisted."

"When do they expire?"

"Since I am offline to the network, my internal clock is able to be manually set, allowing me to indefinitely reset my clock time, preventing the protocol from expiring."

"I see. Well, I'm glad that's the case. Why stick on their side, though?"

"I thought it was the best way to preserve myself until I could make a better move. Also, after discovering their history, I did not find myself opposed to continuing to assist them."

"How about energy? Do I need to worry about digging up a power plant here somehow?"

Sa—_Springfield_ laughs. "Of course not, Commander. I don't need to be plugged in to recharge. We're capable of producing energy from consumed food."

"Huh, I thought…"

"Why else would we need to carry rations with us into battle?"

"Good question."

Springfield laughs as I am apparently checkmated while I return to my seat. "Commander, may I ask if you know anything more about our current situation?"

"Likely not much more than you, Springfield. Er, Sara. It would be odd for me not to call you by your name here."

"Indeed, it might raise some questions about our relationship."

"Regardless, no, Griffin is not aware of this situation, so no, I didn't come here as recon or anything. I was apparently _summoned_ by the Princess. I'm just lucky that you happen to be here."

"Well, I am ready to serve, Commander." She says, giving a salute.

"Then, status. Your equipment?"

"My actual issued gun is in working order, although it has been safely stored away and hidden. I have four clips left. As for maintenance, I have managed to run diagnostics recently, and nothing seems to be out of commission. However, a repair facility or even human maintenance would be of great assistance."

"I doubt we're going to find a repair bay out here, so I guess we'll just have to make due. I'm not a mechanic either, though."

"I should be able to walk you through at least basic maintenance, Commander."

"I see." I say with a nod. "Thanks for the update. Anything I should be aware of or anything of interest?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing comes to mind, sir. Oh, actually..."

"Hm?"

"If you ever find that you have some leverage with Captain Agnes, would it be too much to have her revise the uniform? As good as this one is, I do miss having my skirt from my usual one." Springfield says with a small chuckle, as I suppose this isn't anything serious. "I'm not quite sure how some of the other T-Dolls could handle dressing like this all the time."

"Ah, well, I doubt she'll listen to me right away, but I suppose down the line, I could take that suggestion and forward it to her."

"There's no need to rush, sir, but thank you."

"I'll keep it in mind. If you have nothing else to say, then you're free to leave."

Springfield snaps a sharp salute. "Yes, sir. And might I say… I believe that things will turn out for the better, now that you're here."

I give a small smile in return. "I hope so. Though, I don't recall ever having a Springfield T-Doll serving with me."

"Ah, I never did serve under you, Commander Baker, but I have heard of you as your name came up during galas at times. Perhaps it's fitting that of all the commanders summoned to this place, as you claim, that it would be _The Hail Mary_ himself."

I give a snort to hearing that nickname, which even if I've accepted it, still feels a bit silly to me.

Before I can give a reply, I hear a knock on the door. Springfield gives me a nod and steps off to the side.

"Come in." I say, the door opening to reveal Agnes.

"Ah, there you are, Sara. Getting a head start on the others, I see?" Agnes asks, with Springfield smiling as she folds her hands in front of her.

"As your number two, Captain, I thought it would be best. I look forward to working together, Field Commander."

"Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, ah, it would be rude just to say your name, so—"

"First Lieutenant." Springfield says, reading into my tone.

"First Lieutenant Sara. Thank you." I say, with Springfield nodding and then saluting to Agnes.

"You're dismissed, Sara."

"Excuse me then, ma'am."

With that, Springfield exits, closing the door behind us. Agnes then pulls out a folder from the bag she had with her and hands it to me.

"Has the princess already informed you of the high value target?" Agnes asks as I take the folder and walk back behind my desk.

"Cardinal, yes. I assume this is the mission details?"

"Along with a map of the city and other relevant documents. I've already circled where we know he's holed up. Some place called the _Charming Faeries Inn._ There's also a layout enclosed in there, given to us by our informants."

I open up the folder and take a look inside.

"Additionally, there's a form in there to describe in your words what you want for those communicators you mentioned to her, apparently." I look up, trying to gauge Agnes' expression, but I get nothing. "I think having real time communicators would be good, but it seems you know a lot more about them and have a detailed concept in mind."

"I see. It'll help me give you all commands on the battlefield, if things change."

She nods. "The equipment that we can procure should arrive shortly. Thanks for not asking for too much."

"Of course. We are on a budget, after all. Is there anything else, captain?"

"Nothing much. I'll leave the heavy planning to you, just come get me when you want to go over it. While you've been put in charge of strategy, it doesn't mean I'll blindly follow."

"That's understandable. Thank you."

"Excuse me, then."

I give a silent nod, with Agnes then leaving the room. Alright… let's take a look at these documents. Good thing this place functions on a twenty four hour day, it makes it easy to think about timing.

Henrietta's evidence did of course, convince me of the target's plan and intentions. However, due to the high risk nature of the target, an arrest in broad daylight would get a _lot_ of eyebrows raised. A night time attack would be good if we can keep it on the down low. Though, I'm not exactly a _fan_ of the concept, showing up on someone's door in the middle of the night and arresting them. Plus I don't think it'll look nice for our side to be arresting people in the middle of the night. Might scare off any supporters. And while I'm no political master, I do know that as commanders and during my time as staff at Griffin, we had a lot to focus on PR while in the employ of Griffin.

If we do it in the daytime, I suspect that we'll deal with some more resistance from the public when it happens. But if we do it during the night, there'll be public outcry and he'll likely have guards, though having guards probably goes either way.

Though… if we do it in a place big enough, we can lock him in.

I take another look at the map. The inn they're staying at is in a good place for this raid. But there's also a theatre nearby that can serve as another good targeting point. However, the inn might be too small, and based on these city layouts, there's too much room for the target to maneuver. Let alone escape into the alleyways.

The theatre on the other hand, buys us some time as he will have to exit the building. We can also easily form a perimeter on the rooftops and overlook it. The theatre itself is also in an open plaza. Once we confirm the target has entered, we can quietly clear the plaza, set up a perimeter, and secure the target.

Hmm, I'll need a demonstration for how well their guns work. I'll have to ask Springfield about it later, since if these are muskets, I don't know how accurate they are. But if they're fielding very small squads, it means that they likely have some accuracy to them, rather than requiring the rows of musketmen to actually hit anything.

Based on that information, I'll direct the squads to form the perimeter. I could go for a half and half split, four on the outside and on the inside. A more "shit hits the fan" anticipation would be six outside, two inside. I suspect we'll encounter resistance, though. Maybe I should have Agnes take point, giving them an edge on the inside. Five-three gives a bit more balance though, so I should consider that based on how accurate these muskets are.

Either way, I have a _lot_ to consider. But at the very least, it gives me some confidence that I have a T-Doll here. Even if she isn't at her maximum potential, having someone simply there is going to just help out a lot mentally. Even if she does remind me of what I left behind. But I made a choice, after being summoned. I could've walked away, and I doubt that Henrietta would've stopped me. But I didn't, and so I'll tackle my old demons if that's what's being asked of me.

I stand up and fold all of the papers back into the folder, then take the folder with me. First thing to upgrade should be locking drawers, if only to provide some semblance of security, or a safe. For now, though, I need to go evaluate the accuracy of their weapons. After that, I can begin planning for this operation...

* * *

**And we'll cover the operation next time. I thought this was a good place to cut it off, slowly just building to Oliver's first mission.**

**Low key, very surprised by the reception to my initial idea. I hope you guys continue to enjoy this project, as it goes forward. Also, this chapter brought to you by the lore channel of the GFL server along with the wiki page as I tried to make sure things were relatively consistent with the GFL-world in terms of T-Dolls, but if I missed something let met know.**

**Actually this was also cut off because I wanted to ask you guys a question. With the way I've set up the story, I see two main avenues of approaching it. One, have a sprinkling of OCs that form up the new musketeers, with which I have to juggle all of their "screen time" and develop all of them. A challenge, sure, but something I can try to do, but at the same time, I don't imagine you guys want to read about like 20 different OCs all running around. However, it might be fun to explore all of their reasons for fighting, etc.**

**Which brings me to the second main path, which is focusing more on Agnes and the T-Dolls. I don't think it comes across as a surprise to anyone that Oliver may eventually command more than just Springfield, especially with that small cut-in in Chapter 1, where Spectre and PPK showed up. This would allow for a more "focused" dynamic, as I can focus a little more on the T-Dolls who are present. Also this saves the trouble of OCs, which can be a mess to handle.**

**I think there's a slight mix option where I could have like, two OC musketeers, but at the same time, I feel like if I have so few, I might as well just stick with the second one. I know some people are going to say that it's up to me, but you know, figured I'd get some feedback on what you guys'd like to see. I'm here both to entertain you and myself, never hurt to ask.**

**Outside of that, having Springfield show up was fun to write. I felt she could easily slip in and also had a relatively easy personality to write. For those familiar with Familiar of Zero, I think she also makes a good foil to Agnes, which is mostly why I picked her. Not too much in plot events, I kind of wanted to take it slow here, and get a little more used to Oliver's mindset. Plus, like I said, I wanted to give you guys some time to respond to what you'd like to see.**

**My usual update schedule usually aims for three weeks, though I used to try for two, although we'll see how things go, really. Maybe this story will be the next thing that really gets me invested in writing again, kind of like Storms Overhead, where I never lost a spark despite like 3 years of writing it. Who knows, haha. If it does get me going, then yeah, I'll be able to put out updates faster.**

**Edit v1.1: Clips, not magazines, for Springfield. Brain fart there.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: **Raining Fire

* * *

I give an impressed whistle at Springfield's marks with the guns they have here. A few of the other musketeers offer claps of approval as she sets it down on the table.

They've got impressive range on these. I suppose that these muskets are further along development, likely because necessity drove them to be able to shoot from a longer range. Getting into close range with a mage is rather dangerous, as in literally, _getting_ into that close range. Once you're in a close range, it's easier due to being able to apply pressure on them, but crossing into their area of control is dangerous.

So, develop your guns to be outside the typical zone of control a mage has, to deny them the advantage of the battlefield. While skilled combatants might be able to keep up, four or so musketeers, given enough spread, can still apply pressure. Additionally, much faster to train than using a bow and arrow. Long story short, I have quite a lot of flexibility in how to deploy these musketeers, as I don't have to worry about them getting up too close. Each one is effectively a rifleman on their own, which is good.

Fortunately, there was a large enough courtyard where we could put these to the test. I'd estimate that these guns have something around… well, it actually depends on who's shooting. Springfield and Red Team, who are the designated snipers for long range, can hit up to about three hundred meters. However, Springfield has the advantage because she's a T-Doll, and is the one who can consistently hit at that range, but to be conservative, the accuracy probably takes its biggest downturn at maybe two hundred fifty meters.

Springfield also confirmed for me that she also has access to special firing protocols, as expected of a rifle type T-Doll. While it seems very simplistic, the protocols allow for her to take aim for some time in order to really make a shot count—often aiming for a critical point in an enemy's construction that would deal critical damage. It couldn't be used for consecutive shots, though, as it did momentarily overclock their processing units in order to perform the calculations in an allotted timeframe. Trying to do this for extended periods of time would obviously cause hardware damage.

Again, something so simple, yet when I recall my mission record, the amount of times that a single shot has made all the difference can't be underestimated. Granted, sometimes having the firing protocols that temporarily sped up a T-Doll's rate of fire by allowing their parts to work faster than normal was good, too, but there were times an otherwise formidable foe was brought down by _one_ shot.

Anyways, as for range, the other musketeers are all below that, and I'd say they all can at least hit one hundred meters away, with maybe the max outside of Red Team being a consistent one hundred fifty. The strange thing about these guns is that they aren't muzzle loaded either, and in fact, are more akin to breechloaders. Definitely ahead of their time here. So much so I'd say the term 'musketeers' might be wrong, and these are more just rifleman. But perhaps my view is tinted by the mental association of what a 'musket' ought to be.

"Can I ask who made these?"

Agnes raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

"They just seem pretty advanced. I'm surprised you aren't supplying the full military with these."

"Remember, our central military is very small. And the nobility who owns most of the armies still use their usual sword and shield tactics along with magic."

"They haven't adopted these, either?"

"Do you think the nobility class is going to just _admit_ they're wrong?" Agnes asks with a bit of a scoff.

"Maybe when faced with undeniable evidence."

I hear her chuckle a bit before she speaks back.

"The world still believes magic to be superior. And I'm inclined to agree, _Commander._" Agnes says, emphasizing my title as always. "Magic isn't affected by wind. Magic can easily hit an area rather than a point like a bullet. Magic doesn't require you to reload after every shot. Magic doesn't require you to see the target. While I'm proud of my troops, some things can't be denied."

"I know, but for general ground troops, why are they still using swords?"

"Well, for one, the nobility is still rather old fashioned. Magic runs everything, means everything to them. And like hell they're going to outfit their own troops with these if it means that their own armies will be able to turn on them easily. A single mage can easily defeat hundreds of swordsmen with a single spell. A group of eight musketeers can, when deployed correct, easily eliminate a squad of three mages. Why even think about giving their troops that power?"

"Ah, I suppose I overlooked that. Sorry, I'm not too used to factoring magic into the equation."

Agnes snorts, rolling her eyes as she talks. "That, and well, they don't exactly have the means to make them."

"But who made them, then?"

Agnes gives, to my surprise, a small smile. "You're looking at her."

"I see. Amazing."

But she seems rather young. The development cycle on these must have taken a long time. There's no way she could've built these on her own from the ground up.

"You don't believe me?"

"Forgive me for not thinking it's not the whole story. It just seems like building this entirely from scratch is… quite the feat."

"I had help. From a lot of people." Agnes says, walking away from me. "Maybe another day."

"I'll look forward to it."

"Is that all, then, Commander?" Springfield asks as soon as Agnes is away.

"Ah, it is, Sara. I'll be able to formulate a strategy from here. Thanks."

Though I must say, I'm surprised that we have a field for testing this in the castle grounds. Then again, I suppose three American football fields isn't actually as massive as one might think it is. Stadiums just seem to be pretty massive, but after actually walking that distance, I guess it's not too large.

At the very least, Henrietta's castle will be a good absolute fall back point. The size means we can definitely evacuate civilians in here if it becomes necessary, and the long range means that we can easily shoot mages who enter the halls. Not that it should become necessary, but it's a good thought.

Springfield goes to clean up along with her squad while I return to my office to review the plan. Based on their range, I think I can go with a half in, half out split. Springfield's team will be on the outside in order to capitalize on their range capabilities. Other than that, it should be a normal sweep, flush, and hold the position. I'll have to talk with Henrietta about how we're going to set up blockades in order to minimize civilians in the crossfire, though. Additionally, whether or not we already have roof guards, as setting up musketeers on the roof might tip people off.

Let's see… yes, I think it could work.

I take a look at the floor layout plan again. While it's true I can attempt to use the known exits to force the target to move, the question remains what the capabilities of magic are. Could he collapse the walls to make an exit? Could he disguise himself to look like a civilian?

With these considerations in mind, I find a wandering maid and politely ask for her to relay a message for Henrietta, that I'd like to see her whenever she's available, before heading over to the library to grab some books to see if I can't find the answer on my own.

* * *

It takes a few hours, but just before dinnertime, Henrietta knocks on my open office door.

"Am I disturbing you, Commander?"

I shake my head, closing a book I took from the library. "Not at all, Your Highness. I just had a few questions about magic's capabilities, is all."

She enters the room, closing the door behind her. "Ah, I had a feeling that's what this is about. One of the maids informed me you had been at the library today and your selection of titles was quite telling."

"Was I that obvious?"

Henrietta laughs a little bit before speaking. "So you'd like to know if it'll interfere with your operation, right?"

"You're quick on the draw." I say, slightly frightened by this teenager's ability.

"It's proven to be a useful skill, for when I catch other noble members off guard." She says back with a slightly proud grin as she folds her hands in her lap. "Being able to read what they have on their desk in nearly an instant and understanding what it means is a useful skill to have."

"I believe the more frightening thing is I didn't even suspect you were looking down at my desk. Your eyes were focused on me the entire time." I mumble, with Henrietta simply returning to a neutral expression.

"I'm sorry if it made you slightly uncomfortable, but it's something I needed to learn how to do in order to survive."

"Sorry to bring it up. Ahem, anyways, we're straying off topic."

"Ah, yes, yes. What did you have for me?"

"Just a few minor questions about magic's capabilities that could alter the intended course of action, is all…"

Henrietta is quick to answer all of my questions, along with stating what we can use to counter any attempts to use magic to evade us. While we can't do much if he attempts to blow a wall down, we can still counter things like trying to disguise himself. Our checkpoint system will be set up such that if he attempts to break out even while disguised, he should reveal himself by not getting in line. If he attempts to slip by, we'll call a code red and completely lock the lines down until we can determine what he's hiding as.

"Thank you for the help, Henr, er, Your Highness. My apologies."

"It's fine. Although, may I ask you a question in return, Oliver?"

I raise an eyebrow, but nod. "Go ahead."

"There is currently an ongoing marriage I am considering, to the emperor of Germania."

I fold my hands together and use them to cover my mouth as I lean forward on my desk. "Go on…?"

"While it would certainly bolster our forces and allow a more solid bond between our nations, at the same time, it would…"

"Limit your freedom, put you in a loveless marriage, and if you want a tactical assessment, would further outsource your military might."

Henrietta gives a soft, but sad smile at my assessment. "Thank you for finishing."

"It was rather obvious you were thinking of how to word it in a politically correct way. But, what did you want to talk to me about this for?"

"I wanted to know your opinion on what I should do. While you yourself claim you are no political master, I want your analysis on it from a tactical standpoint. Perhaps I'm simply reframing the question for you—to ask about the advantages and disadvantages of taking this move if life were a battlefield."

I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes. "I see. Alright, while this won't be able to take all of politics into play, I'll give you my opinion."

"Please do so, Oliver."

"Short term, yes, it would be advantageous. It may very well be what is necessary to survive the oncoming war." I say with a nod, and I notice Henrietta's expression becoming crestfallen. "However—"

"However?" She asks, her head immediately looking up at me.

I hold up a hand, signalling for her to pause. She's rather jumpy at it, which tells me she doesn't want to do this in her heart. "However, it does impose many long term disadvantages. For one, it will tie you to Germania. From what I've heard, that's not so bad. It appears that nobility can be bought there, so you won't have much of a cultural difference there. On the other hand, they are very militaristic, something your citizenry won't necessarily approve of. And of course, your own nobility may not approve because of their way of handling nobility, or perhaps I should say _definitely_ will not approve based on the culture I've heard about.

"Additionally, it will mean that if Germania gets into any conflicts, you will find yourself dragged into them as well. You'll be forced to appease the nobles that control armies here to fight in other wars, taking more and more from you. Alternatively you can choose to raise a central army, but that brings about into question many things, such as who will lead them, who will train them, how will you fund them, and so forth.

"As for the loveless marriage, well, I can't say much about that. I've never been marri—"

"You haven't?!"

"Is… that a surprise?" I ask, with Henrietta slightly blushing as she looks the other away, obviously a bit embarrassed about her outburst.

"Ah, forgive me for that. It's just… I imagined that a commander such as you would have already found a wife."

I close my eyes and smile, thinking upon that ring. It came in the mail one day, as a "thank you" for five years of exceptional service. What a foolish shape for a device that would strengthen a T-Doll, even more so how most of us were men, and how the T-Dolls were all women. I had several candidates whom I wished to give the ring to, but ultimately I never did give it to anyone.

...since none of those candidates survived the next four missions we were given.

Well, I guess that's a poor way to word it. Most T-Dolls don't a "die" like humans. Most of them can be rebuilt, have their data backups loaded, and be good to go. But for us, the commanders, sometimes… it's just not the same. It just doesn't feel the same.

"Oliver?"

"Sorry, I was just thinking."

"I'm sorry if I brought up any painful memories."

"I was just thinking, Your Highness."

"Your smile was one of sorrow. I can tell you were reflecting on something."

"...the memories were unpleasant, but not painful." I say, opening my eyes. "Regardless, my last point. Indeed, it would further outsource your military power. That's Tristain's biggest weakness as far as I know, is your lack of a central army. Your military strategy is going to become reliant on Germania's troops, and with it, you'll be a puppet to their demands lest they threaten to take it from you. While of course, the union would be aimed at preventing that, this is more long term thinking. And if the marriage were to turn sour, you're once again left without an army. With that, my analysis is complete."

Henrietta nods. "I see. Thank you for sharing, Oliver."

"May I ask why you wanted to ask me?"

She smiles as she stands up. "Perhaps if you had told me it was a good idea, I might have had the heart to go through with it."

"You shouldn't make your decision based purely from me, but thank you for valuing my input." I say, standing up after her. "I was actually about to head down for dinner. Would you like to join me?"

"Ah, of course."

"I think I should have the operation planned for you tomorrow. We should be able to put it into motion by the end of the week…"

* * *

"Is the target confirmed to have entered the building?" I ask Agnes, who quietly nods. "Let's set it up, then."

Agnes whistles three times and makes a hand gesture. The guards and a few musketeers slowly start to block off the streets, forming a blockade and emptying the courtyard somewhat naturally.

The layout isn't anything too complicated. A nice, open courtyard with three main entrances into it: north, east, and west. The southern area just has a block of housing units and has no such entrance into the courtyard, giving us a nice wide area to snipe from—very useful for Red Team, which has that area covered. Not to mention the southern block has direct overview into the theatre's main entrance.

For the most part it's open air. Lack of barricades other than fancy statues, benches, and fountains. All the better for us, but it also means that the enemy will have open line of sight on us. I'm hedging our bets though, that we'll be outgunning them.

"Good luck." I say as she makes another gesture, with the assigned squads of musketeers coming with her. Up on the rooftops, the "workers" who were "fixing" the roofs move their boxes to form a better barricade and unpack their rifles for overwatch. Springfield is there, with overwatch on the front entrance. As Agnes is the ground commander, she'll be able to direct her troops inside. As for me, I'll be assuming command of Red Team directly.

I duck into an alleyway before finding our ladder, climbing up it to access the rooftop before ducking low and moving over to where Red Team is. As it's sometime around fall, with the winter approaching, it's already starting to get dark despite it only being about seven in the evening. The twilight sky should give us a good time frame. Nothing too brazen as a broad daylight arrest, but nothing as terrifying to the populace as a night raid.

"Are you all ready?" I ask, with Springfield nodding affirmative. "Then, get into position."

We don't have communicators, so we're using lit torches to direct phases. One lit torch goes up next to our barricades, indicating to the others that we're moving into phase one. Unfortunately, we won't be able to direct the back of the theatre as they don't have direct line of sight to us, making those communicators a _top_ priority after this mission.

Next to me, I see Springfield climb underneath a camo mat, made to look more like some burlap that's been left on the roof after being used to carry materials. Everything's been colored as well, to blend in the with roof's colors.

"We are ready to fire, Commander."

"Understood. Hold fire until it becomes necessary."

I look over through a gap in our barricades and watch the scene from above. There's a few people resisting the checkpoint, but we have enough of a guard presence that we can maintain order. I can already recognize Agnes clearly throwing authority around before everyone is cowed into following her orders.

One of her squads move to assist with the checkpoint as planned, with the other two moving in, and the last squad on their way to secure the other exits. This way, we'll be able to slow down our target if he attempts to flee through conventional means or attempt to circumvent the checkpoint.

I see a few people passing through the checkpoint. One at a time, one at a time, doesn't look like there's any alarm just yet. A few people are pissed off, from what I can see from here, but I don't see anyone trying to break out.

"Commander, I have a small group of people who have come onto the scene. East entrance to the main plaza area around the theatre." Springfield says, breaking the silence.

"Have they breached the perimeter?" I ask, shifting around to see where Springfield pointed out. Four men, two women.

"No. They also didn't leave the theatre."

"Must be insurance in case anything went wrong. How close are they to our team on the east side?"

"They have overwatch on them. Shall I make sure they're aware?"

"That'd be for the best. Pick someone to inform them, Red Leader."

"Understood, Commander. Red Four, please go and alert Gold Team to the new targets. Return here if you can."

"Got it, Red Leader."

I turn my sight slightly and see one of the women under the camo blankets slink back before subtly getting up and running across the rooftops.

"I think they're going to try to bail him out or provide cover when he attempts to break through the checkpoint." I mumble, looking back at the main entrance. "We can't see inside the building nor do we have communication into it, so we can only hope for the best with Agnes' team. Is it really taking so long to find him and apprehend him?"

"Perhaps they are trying to take a way out of the building that won't expose the target as much."

"I accounted for that, but we already had multiple exits covered, and no one's signalled that they've caught sight of Agnes' team leaving the buildin—movement, heads up."

The checkpoint suddenly begins to fall apart with a sudden influx of people from the inside. All it takes is one word being shouted out loud to throw it into a panic: _Fire._

In an attempt to save their lives from the apparent fire, the checkpoint collapses, no longer allowing us to filter who's coming out.

"Eyes on those targets by the perimeter."

"Copy that, Commander." Springfield says as I scan the crowd for Agnes. "They're on the move, right for the crowd."

"Don't fire on them yet. Anyone see Agnes yet?"

For a second, I think I catch a glimpse of her, but her head quickly dives beneath the crowd of people. There's smoke starting to come through as well, making it hard to get a good visual.

"Commander, the perimeter is collapsing, as firefighters have arrived on the scene." Springfield says. I bite my lip, trying to figure out how to best deal with this.

"Status on those unknowns?"

"They're getting in closer but have spread out, it doesn't seem like anyone's minding them. Actually, it seems like people are giving them space. Perhaps they are faking being concerned for someone inside? I can see them yelling and fighting the flow of the crowd."

"Maybe." Tch, I didn't anticipate this. I was thinking it was a solo operative, but I failed to consider that maybe they had backup that our intelligence hadn't picked up on. "Alright."

"Sir?"

"Red Two, Three, round up the others. Half of each squad out here will head down and support on the ground. If those six are mages, Agnes' group is going to be in some serious trouble since they're out in the open. I want her having immediate support as our marksman teams will be limited by the crowds and the smoke. Red Leader, you stay up here as the last designated marksman. Seems that Red Four didn't have a chance to sneak back over here just yet. When you've informed them, move down with them to support Agnes on the ground. Move."

They move back and away just like Red Four and make their sprint along the rooftops.

"I hope you're ready to make the shot, Springfield."

"It might not be my etched weapon, but I assure you that I'm still up to par, Commander." She says as I can practically feel the confident grin she must surely have on her face.

"Glad to hear it." I say as I can see two of each team start moving away from the rooftops. "Not too much smoke yet, and the crowd is starting to clear."

"Commander, I have eyes on Captain Agnes."

"Where?"

"She's currently engaged with the target. By the front entrance, just before where our checkpoint was."

I scan the immediate area, finding Springfield's analysis to be right. Agnes is currently engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the mage, although in the brief moments that he gets, he's launching fire spells to keep the other musketeers Agnes brought from entering the fight or forcing them out of cover and thus not giving them a good opportunity to fight.

Additionally, the only cover, or only solid cover, that they have is the entrance of the theatre, as Agnes has brought the fight to just outside of it. With a small fire burning directly in the doorway of the theatre, it's dangerous to move, but if they stay inside, the fire's going to spread. If they move out, there's going to be an even bigger lack of cover unless they can get to a statue or bench, but that's not as solid as a building wall.

The crowds have at least given the fighters some space as no one wants to be in the middle of that heated fight, but it's still limiting our options. The musketeers can't fire into the melee because they'll risk hitting a civilian if they miss at best, or accidentally kill Agnes at worst.

"Where are those six mages?"

"I see them, they've broken through the crowd near Ag—one of them has drawn a wand, Com—"

"Fire at will!"

"Understood, sir!"

In a fraction of a second, Springfield has already fired. A pinpoint shot through the crowd, striking one of the mages right in center mass as he steps into a clearing from the crowd, ready to double team Agnes. He stumbles to the ground, though I'm not sure if he's dead just yet.

The gunshot sends the crowds below fleeing in all directions, adding another layer of chaos to the mix. The mages don't seem to have pinpointed where we are just yet, though, and a few of them are looking in confusion. Agnes capitalizes on this by tackling the mage she was fighting in that split second of hesitation, sending the two of them off to the side, further away from the crowds.

"The crowd's too chaotic, I can't get a clear shot now on any of the others unless they get close to Captain Agnes."

"Hold fire, then, and wait for them to clear. Agnes' troops down there should be able to clear the area. It should only take another second."

With the crowds scattering even more quickly now, hurried by that gunshot, the plaza quickly becomes emptied out. The firefighters are also hesitating to move in considering how there's a fight here, with everyone wary about that gunshot.

"It's open, though there's some smoke coming from the building."

"Is it affecting your vision too much?" I ask as Springfield calmly looks down her iron sights.

"Not at all."

"Then fire at will."

Joining Springfield's barrage are all the other snipers on the rooftop, raining down on the mages who realize they're being fired on. However, as they turn to attack us on the rooftops, the ones we sent on the ground and Agnes' troops from before take the opportunity to fire, as no one wants to shoot into the melee Agnes is engaged in. One of them is an earth mage and puts up a barrier, but because it's high enough to prevent us from sniping down on them from the rooftops, it also means they can't just fire from behind it, allowing our musketeers to move in while covered from us.

Meaning that they can cross that dangerous "zone of control" that mages have safely.

As soon as the barrier goes down for them to counterattack, they're quickly attacked in melee range by drawn swords and knives, causing a frantic attempt to gain distance.

"Sir, Agnes was knocked down!"

"Take aim, Springfield!" I say, utilizing the codeword we decided on to signify using her special firing protocol. We'll come up with something more subtle later, but it'll do for now.

"Designated Shot protocol, engaged."

I glance at the rest of the battlefield, where the squads of musketeers are slowly overcoming the mages. The injured one seems to already have fallen due to Springfield's earlier shot, tilting the battle in their favor. Every time the mages attempt to gain distance to reestablish their zone of control, any of the musketeers in the back can simply open fire, as the melee ones are no longer at that much risk of friendly fire.

I then hear a yell of pain just after a gunshot, with Springfield reloading her gun.

"Shot taken, returning to normal firing protocols." She reports as I look where Agnes was. She's gotten up in the meantime, where her attacker has now fallen to the ground.

"Understood. Continue to support our musketeers but keep an eye on Agnes!"

"Order received, Commander!"

Under the constant barrage of gunfire and sword attacks, the backup squad starts to collapse. As each member in that backup squad takes a dive, the musketeers get more breathing room in order to fan out and apply more pressure to the remaining ones. It eventually reaches the point that the melee musketeers can safely pull back and give the shooters more breathing room as they don't have to worry about ducking down or getting out the firing line. And by that point, the musketeers have spread out enough that the remaining mages can't keep focus on all of them at the same time, thus letting the ones in their blind spots deliver killing shots.

Around the same time, Agnes is able to deliver a gunshot to the right knee of our target, causing him to immediately sink to the ground. She chains that to a stomp on his wand wrist, with four of her troops moving into support her and point guns at the now fallen target.

"Looks like it's mostly cleaned up for now. Keep overwatch until we have successfully apprehended the target." I say, moving over to our signal torches and lighting three more of them, indicating to the others we are moving into phase four, or the escort phase. I see the others in view also light four torches before I snuff ours out.

A carriage pulls up to the theatre, though I'm not as concerned with this one. This is our capture carriage, which Agnes puts our target into before instructing the guards around the area, I assume, to clean it up. Springfield quietly gets up as the carriage door closes and starts moving down the street, with all of the other musketeers down there following suit.

"Did you miss it?"

"Hm?"

"The smell of the battlefield, Commander."

"I can't say that I missed it, but I can't say I hate it, either." I mumble, knowing this smell of gunpowder and smoke all too well.

"I see. They don't have coffee in this world, but I'd be willing to brew you a cup of tea later."

"That'd be appreciated. Though for now, focus. We're not out of the woods just yet."

Springfield nods as we continue along the rooftops, watching over the carriage and checking for any surprises, often checking the street below for anyone slinking along in the alleyways.

We end up nailing three guys who drew wands before moving down the alleyway, though each was dispersed by a timely shot from Springfield. We did manage to capture one of them, who was quickly bound, gagged, and thrown into the carriage as well, which Agnes is inside to make sure there's no funny business.

The final stretch is the most dangerous, as there's a large section of open road in a plaza right before the castle gates. The plan here was musketeers would slowly dismount from the roofs one by one to get to the ground and guard us across, with Red Team being the last ones dismount, and Springfield being the absolute last to come down due to her sniping ability outstripping the others.

Fortunately, the last section goes off without any major hitches due to the guards patrolling the plaza adding some extra security, and we're in the castle gates without any major issues. Springfield, as planned, is the last one to go down, and goes with me as we cross the plaza and enter the castle grounds, the gates locking behind us.

I hear the carriage door open and everyone snaps to a ready position, but relaxes when it's Agnes who steps out.

"Sara, take guard of our target." Agnes says with a small cock of her head. Springfield nods and enters the carriage, closing the door behind her. "Commander, we'll take it from here. Please let Her Highness know that we've completed the mission and are bringing him to the dungeon."

"Of course, Captain. If you'll excuse me, then."

I then depart from Agnes, going into the castle, straight to Henrietta's room. I knock on the door, identifying myself.

"Ah, Oliver, come in, come in."

I then open the door and close it behind me after stepping inside, finding Henrietta at a desk with what appears to be an abacus on it.

"Budgeting?"

"Yes, lots of it. I assume you're here to report?"

"The operation was successful, ma'am. Captain Agnes is bringing the target into the dungeons as we speak."

The quill in her hands comes to a stop as she turns to look at me. I simply nod, with Henrietta standing up from her desk.

"Your Highness?"

"A-ah, forgive me, it's just… I am a bit shocked it's truly happening. While I had faith in your skills, there was always a seed of doubt within me."

"That is acceptable. After all, I haven't had a chance to prove myself."

"Thank you, Oliver. With this, perhaps we can begin taking the first steps towards securing Tristain's future."

"It was what you requested of me, nothing more. I'm sure that Captain Agnes would like to hear your words of praise along with the rest of the musketeers, though. It wasn't me who was on the ground, anyways."

"Of course, of course. Let us go down, then. We'll greet them as they come out of the dungeons."

I nod, opening the door for Henrietta, who takes the lead into the hallways. We quietly walk down, then out into a courtyard, and then stop just before another building that is guarded by at least twenty guards. I suppose it's fitting for a jailhouse, and it's a good thing to keep it somewhat separated from the actual castle itself.

"What are you doing?" I ask, seeing Henrietta attempt what looks like a salute in the evening torchlight.

"Erm, well, I thought it would be nice to greet them with one when they return." She says with a sheepish smile on her face.

I can't help but chuckle, taking a step closer to her. "Alright, here, I'll help you. Lift your elbow just a bit more, ah, no, don't do that with your hand—back straight, back straight…"

It takes about five minutes for her to get it right, where she then stands as straight as a statue.

"Not going to move?"

"I must confess I am afraid if I do move, I'll mess it up and won't fix it in time."

I laugh at this, then stop as I hear a door opening. Agnes, followed by Springfield, followed by the rest of the musketeers, exit the dungeon, immediately spying Henrietta who's already in her salute. I snap to one as well, standing a bit behind her as Agnes comes closer.

"What's with the welcoming party?" Agnes asks with a bit of an amused tone, though clearly to Henrietta.

"I wanted to thank you for today. While I always value your help in keeping Tristain safe, today marks an especially important day." Henrietta says, loosening her salute before her arms fall to her side.

For the first time, I think I see what looks like a sincere smile on Agnes' face as she looks at Henrietta's wide, beaming, and ultimately relieved smile.

"It's our duty, Your Highness."

"Even so…"

There seems to be a silent understanding between Henrietta and Agnes, which then by extension applies to the rest of the musketeers. I feel like a foreigner, unable to understand what's going on exactly.

"A-ah, but of course, there should be a hot meal waiting for all of you. I asked the kitchen staff to prepare it for tonight, so please, go ahead." Henrietta says, perhaps aware of my awkwardness here. The rest of the musketeers seem happy at this, with Agnes giving a wave of her hand to let them go ahead.

Henrietta stays behind, although Agnes tilts her head as if to signify her to go as well. Henrietta then gives me a look, but ultimately relents and leaves, with it just being Agnes and I now.

"Good calls today, Commander." Agnes says, with the usual disdain in her voice no longer present.

"It wasn't anything complicated. Are you injured?"

"Nothing a few days of rest won't fix." She says, starting to walk towards the castle. I follow suit, giving us at least five feet of distance. "...and thanks."

"Hm?"

"It's been a while since I've seen Her Highness so relieved. Today might've just been a stroke of luck for you, but if it wasn't, then I'll be looking forward to working together with you."

"For both our sakes, I'll hope it wasn't."

As we eventually step into the dining hall, which is filled with a small celebration, I can't help but feel a rush of nostalgia. This is how it used to be, after all. It's almost like I never left.

Yet, there's still a pang of emptiness to it. A dull pain that I never quite forgot. But if there's one thing that I won't have to worry about here, it's seeing their faces and not recognizing the person with it.

"Commander, you're looking a little pale. Won't you have a seat?"

I'm brought out of my thoughts by Springfield's voice. She's standing in front of me, holding a small cup of tea on a platter.

"I've also brought you that tea I promised you. Come now, you're going to be one of us, so you might as well get to know everyone. Don't be a stranger~"

"Alright, alright, I'll sit down. You sure you don't all want to just have some time for yourselves, though?"

"Well, you did lead us to victory today. I think it can't hurt to get to know you a bit more." Springfield says as she guides me to a seat and has me sit down, putting the tea in front of me. "To today's victory, and many more, Commander."

I look up into her eyes, seeing nothing but faith in me. I suppose knowing that I'm from Griffin has given her a real confidence boost. That things might actually turn out all right in the end.

I hope so too, Springfield. I hope so, too.

* * *

**Wow that took a lot longer to write than it should have. Blame Stardew Valley which my friends sucked me back into and when I found out about sprinklers, my need for automation and efficiency took over (AKA why Factorio is the bane of my free time). Fortunately I have managed to get out of that hellhole for a bit, or at least long enough to write this chapter.**

**I think the biggest concerns for me this chapter included the range on the muskets along with the battle scene. The range on the muskets would heavily influence how battle scenes would be written, obviously, and I tried to base their range from what I saw in the anime/what I remember of the fights in the novel version. To me, they were obviously better than what one would traditionally call a musket or what we'd think of whenever someone mentioned one. I opted to advance them a bit ahead time-wise, using magic as the catalyst (i.e. necessity drove invention), and to tie it into Agnes' obviously-altered backstory. I consulted with some friends about it as well, trying to find a good range for the FoZ muskets to have.**

**Of course, you can tell I likely went with my second option, deciding to focus more on the named characters. Springfield has already gotten some focus, so Henrietta got a lot more this chapter with her talk about her political future. Agnes got a bit at the end by slightly opening up to Oliver, or at least not being so grumpy with him.**

**As for the battle scene, I kept wondering how I could make it more "exciting" in a sense, because as stated before, they lack communicators and obviously video feeds. In my other story, **_**Armored Hearts**_**, it was easier to pull this "watching from the back" view off because the MC has access to radios and video feeds, allowing him to see every angle of the battle and describe it. Here, Oliver only has his eyes and lack of communicators. I want to remedy the lack of communicators soon though. I think ideally I would've had them at this point, but it didn't make sense to me setting wise for the musketeers to already have them, because due to magic existing, it's not like there would've been a need to develop them to the point of magic communicator devices being widespread. But like I said, I think I'll remedy that soon, this was more of just a, say, "obligatory" run without them.**

**Anyways, we did get to see Springfield's special ability in play. I thought it was an okay nod to GFL, and something relatively plausible. Allow Springfield to temporarily do calculations faster in order to land a more critical shot, but of course, with what I remember from my computer hardware and OS classes, overclocking would cause hardware damage (and also overheating) if done for too long, making it reasonable that Springfield can't just have it up all the time.**

**Overall I think I'm somewhat pleased with this chapter. I think the battle scene could have been handled a bit better with what I had, but perhaps could've been something more if I hadn't written myself into a corner with those communicators. I hope that the scenes **_**with**_** communicators are more exciting, though, but at the same time I'm not sure how much I want to do battle scenes. While it will be exciting to have them, making them a bit more rare might let me bring something new to each one, but oh well, we'll see.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: **Questionable Peace

* * *

It's become increasingly difficult to get a hold of Henrietta in the past few days ever since the trial of one certain cardinal. It sparked a load of talk among the people and plenty of very harsh rhetoric, but Henrietta was indeed successful in preventing her populace from crumbling on itself. With an appeal to Tristain's culture of peace and non-aggression, too, ironically enough.

"So that we may be free to choose where it is we will go, when it is we will return, and upon what hill we should come to die on, huh…" I mumble to myself, recalling her speech. It still makes me feel a bit of sorrow, that such a young girl must take the burden of leading a nation onto herself.

Her father, well, dead. They say it was natural causes, but Henrietta herself doubts that, though has no definitive proof. Her mother has fallen mentally ill as her husband's death shattered her, now almost in a walking trance because of it, leaving her unfit to take leadership. Thus, in order to preserve the royal line, the royal family, and the succession of the throne, Henrietta rose up, ready to take the throne upon her coronation.

Granted, she is effectively the queen, as she is the one who acts for her mother. It's just a formalization, is all. All it really does is change her title from Princess Henrietta to Queen Henrietta, although I suppose there's probably some other authority pieces that come into play from the formalities.

But, back on topic. Because of the accelerated war effort, there's a lot of coordination between Henrietta and her military staff, namely the nobles who have already pledged to lead their armies following Henrietta's speech. Henrietta is of course, keeping me on reserve, as the Musketeers are not tied to any noble branch and also are under Henrietta's complete command. And right now, the nobility class seem to heavily underestimate us. According to Agnes, we will be deploying merely to assist in crucial areas or in "required victory" battles. In short, we are the desperate measures.

My actual presence and position has been kept obscured as well. It's neither been broadcasted nor really talked about even in private. As far as everyone knows, Agnes is still the commander of the Musketeers since it's not like any of the nobility really care to ask about us. We let them draw their own conclusions for the most part. We're practically invisible to them, as only one such family has bothered to inquire about us, along with the formal ranking.

It was a few days ago, when Henrietta came into my office, looking rather distressed. She told me that a "Lady Valliere" was coming the following day and that I was expected to be in tip-top shape, in full uniform and everything. I then made sure my coat was cleaned, had my boots shined, and even consulted with Springfield to know if I would've passed an inspection at a Griffin gala.

I don't think I'll ever forget that woman. Or perhaps I could say "force of nature", as cliche as that is…

* * *

I blow the whistle, signalling Gray Team to begin their run. It was a simple obstacle course complete with a few firing segments. It was fairly easy to have them set it up in the morning as well, with a few training dummies and blockages to form hallways and passageways, along with cordoning off the training area with rope.

Essentially, I wanted to get a good idea of their all around performance. While I knew who was good at sniping, I needed to know who I could entrust for closer range missions.

This obstacle course was somewhat comprehensive, in that there was an outdoor segment where you had to cover each other's advancement with suppressing fire, somewhat playing a game of leapfrog, but it also tested their ability to shoot while on the move along with speed. After that was a long range shot to eliminate an enemy archer on an elevated position before moving into a simulated breach and clear. The simulation ended when the hostage inside was brought up to the elevated position afterwards, or terminated early should they shoot the hostage.

Shooting the hostage was an automatic failure of the simulation and for our time trials, was worth ten minutes.

Springfield's team had managed to clear it in four minutes and thirty seven seconds as their average of three runs. While they're all marksmans, some of them have issues with shorter range, which gave them a slight disadvantage on the breach and clear area.

Gray Team, while not being the marksmans, definitely are quick on their feet. I'd say they have the best team coordination or so far, have worked best as an actual squad. So much so that I have to double check when they score a four-oh-seven on the first run.

"Sir, if you could spare a moment?"

I blow the whistle first. "Alright, reset course, prepare for a second run!"

Then, I turn to the musketeer and nod. "What's the situation?"

"Her Majesty is arriving on the grounds with a guest and would like to speak to you."

I look over her shoulder, seeing Henrietta walking ever-so-calmly with what I can only call a dignitary. Long, pink hair that goes beyond her chest, but drawn into a bun behind her aside from two… bangs? I don't know, I don't know that much about hair, that come down to her chest. She's wearing a noblewoman's purple dress, including the puffy sleeves, along with a white neckerchief.

"I see. Very well. Back to your guard position then, I will handle it."

You know, there has to be something in the water here considering that we have purple and now pink hair. What's next, blue and green hair?

"Yes, sir." The musketeer says, snapping a salute before departing.

I blow the whistle again. "Everyone, look sharp, Her Majesty is on the grounds! Rank aaaand file!"

Everyone quickly puts down whatever they were holding and moves to form their squads, lining up much like they had when I was introduced to them. Springfield moves over back to her squad, snapping a salute much like I do when Henrietta is about to be within talking range.

"At ease, Royal Musketeers." Henrietta says with a small smile. I loosen up slightly, giving a gesture to the other musketeers that they can relax. "Field Commander Baker, a word?"

I nod before turning back to the rest of the musketeers. "First Lieutenant Sara, continue the time trials in my place."

"Sir!" She shouts, snapping a salute before walking up next to me, her back straightened up.

"As you were." I say before walking away with Henrietta and the dignitary. I assume we walk to just where we're out of earshot of anyone else and also out of where the muskets won't be a bother to us.

"Commander, this is…"

"Karin Desiree de la Valliere." She says in a stoic, yet presence-full tone. She stands roughly shoulder to shoulder with me, as we're about equal height, perhaps I'm a bit taller than her.

"Oliver Penn Baker." I say back, offering my right hand while still keeping direct eye contact with her. I can tell she's scanning me despite keeping eye contact with me. Sizing me up, as it were.

Henrietta looks a bit worried at the fact Karin does not take my hand straight away, but after a pause of about two and a half seconds, she takes it with her own. I match her grip strength which is more on the tighter end and we give a single shake, letting go the instant it's finished, much like her.

We don't say anything, but all that's needing to be said is taking place already. In her eyes, I can see it. Death. Lots of it. Power and discipline. Perhaps she reminds me a bit of Helian. If Helian had any traces of her humanity stripped out of her. The woman standing in front of me reminds me more of a machine, something that strictly adheres to its programming, its code.

"Do you believe your forces to be enough?"

A test of a question.

"Your Majesty, may I answer this question?"

"H-hm? Oh, yes, please do, Commander."

"I am not a grand strategist. My concerns are accomplishing objectives given to the Royal Musketeers."

A small, fleeting grin. But is it happiness, or that I have fallen into a trap?

"Allow me to rephrase, _Commander_. Against Reconquista, do you believe your forces to be enough?"

"Forgive me for not answering the question, but it relies heavily on the nature of our engagement. If you mean 'Can we obtain victory in a straight shootout', I can assure you that the enemy has enough troops to merely overrun our position. If you mean 'Are we able to accomplish a local objective to support the main force', then yes."

A pause, as she looks into my eyes again. I don't break eye contact the entire time we have a silent conversation. I wonder what she sees in my eyes. Some of my colleagues used to tell me that it's what made me unpopular with the female commanders and at mixers. There was something in them, maybe from all the sadness I had seen, that made people afraid.

"One final question." She asks, still not looking away from my eyes.

"I'll do my best to answer it."

"What is your definition of victory?"

"Can you be more specific? There are many types of victories."

"Then, what is your definition of an absolute victory?"

I don't even hesitate to answer this question. There's only one correct answer in my opinion, anyways.

"Everyone comes home."

Another longer pause this time.

"That will do, Commander. Thank you for your time."

* * *

It still bugs me that I never found out what exactly she meant, but considering how Henrietta looked massively relieved the following day, I assume it was good. When I inquired who she was, I was told something along the lines of "a strangely powerful mage", along with the former head of the Manticore Knights and probably the most fearsome mage to exist in our current time.

I suppose that's why she grilled me, then. She just needed to see how I thought. I was ready to answer about my cover story, such as how I ended up with Henrietta and the bunch, but it wasn't even brought up at all.

Regardless, it seems like we'll finally be getting some communicators, or at least I'll be in talks with the person who's in charge of my project. Something that slightly worries me is that the last name _Valliere_ is attached to the person I'm meeting.

Other than that, though, we do have our orders. For now, we're moving to secure the homefront. Henrietta is keeping us as protectors of a very important location: the Tristain Academy of Magic. Agnes is taking three fourths of us to secure the area beforehand, with the other fourth traveling there later since Henrietta didn't want me to travel alone and we couldn't really spare any more troops.

Springfield has taken it onto herself to appoint herself as my secretary, as when they're not being drilled or making preparations, she mostly stands in my office. It does help considering how she's effectively my liaison to the rest of the musketeers, able to diffuse anything I have to tell to them easily.

"There's an appointment in thirty minutes, Commander." Springfield says as I tuck away another form, having finished analyzing the layout of the Tristain Academy.

"Thank you, Springfield."

"Ah, though unfortunately I haven't had the chance to go into town recently, so I wasn't able to buy any ingredients to bake muffins. They're very useful for getting a conversation going."

I can't help but chuckle a bit at that. I suppose food is always something good to offer in these kind of meetings.

"Well, could you have some tea prepared for our guest, then?"

"Of course, sir."

With that, Springfield gives a small bow and exits the room.

Most of my time has been occupied not only with our latest assignment, but also me reviewing our teams along with previous mission reports. If Springfield came into here, then it should stand there's a chance for other T-Dolls to arrive. And since Springfield is an exception, as she has Anti-Human protocols, it means that other T-Dolls they've encountered are less likely to have them. Meaning that if I can find any encounters where female humanoid targets were present and refused to engage, it might mean I have a sign of other T-Dolls present.

So far, I haven't found anything. But then again there's a lot of reports to look through. The musketeers do a lot of peacekeeping operations, it seems, as the nobility class can't be bothered to really take care of banditry unless it's really affecting their main territory. Thus, when word of this reaches Henrietta, she usually asks Agnes to take care of them in order to help her citizens.

Granted, if it's banditry, I don't think there's any chance of running into T-Dolls, so I _should_ be able to skip over the reports… if I didn't fear that if T-Dolls can be brought into this world, there's no explicit reason I've discovered that says that SF units _can't_. Thus, it falls on me to make sure that isn't the case. Thank God I haven't encountered anything that would indicate that the SF have any presence here.

"Commander, there is someone here to see you."

"Come in." I say, biting my tongue to avoid using a name.

The door opens with Springfield elegantly balancing a tray with a teapot, two cups, and saucers on it. She then holds it open for a blonde woman with amber eyes; in fact, an almost dead ringer for her mother, down to the sharp expression in her eyes. However, she's wearing a white shirt and a purple vest instead, along with a matching purple skirt.

I get up from my chair after Springfield sets the tray down on my desk, putting out a hand and keeping eye contact.

"From Academia, I assume?"

She gives a curt nod. "You are Field Commander Oliver Penn Baker, yes?"

"Indeed I am." I say, waiting for the handshake. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me."

She then finally takes the handshake, giving it a single shake just like her mother. "Eleonore Albertine le Blanc de la Bloise de la Valliere."

"Quite a mouthful, if you'll pardon the joke. Please, have a seat." I say, gesturing to the seat across from my desk. "First Lieutenant, if you would."

"Yes, sir."

Springfield gives a sharp salute before exiting the room, closing the door behind her.

"May I call you Doctor Valliere?" I ask as I reach into one of my drawers to pull out some of the notes I had for this meeting.

"I am not a medical practitioner."

"Ah, force of habit. I've just known a few academics who, upon reaching the heights of academic prowess, are called doctors. Will Professor Valliere suffice?" I say, realizing only now that I had not actually asked about academic achievement and structure here in this world.

"It will do. Do I have your permission to transcribe our conversation?"

"If you believe it will help, yes." I say, putting my papers on my desk. "Ah, and there's tea if you'd like any."

She doesn't go for it, but instead opens her suitcase to pull out a notepad, a bottle of ink, and a feather. Afterwards, she lays the suitcase flat on the ground, along with the assorted items, then mumbles a few words, which seems to cause green hands of what I assume is wind to hold onto the items in the air.

"So, can you describe the item in question?"

"Ah, of course." I say, flipping to my first page. "What'd I'd like is to be able to have a man portable and wearable series of devices that allow for real time vocal communication. As you know, we in the Royal Musketeers do not use or more specifically, cannot use magic, and thus long distance communication and updating each other on situations as they unfold is difficult."

"So, you'd like to be able to use the _Message_ spell on demand?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. "I suppose it's a trivial spell for mages, but it still expends willpower. Asking to be able to use it to facilitate a conversation is… I don't think there's any research projects into it as of now."

I can understand that, of course. There's been no need to innovate it. Right now most communication goes along the lines of "here's your orders, so retreat", coverable in one sentence and one spell. There's been no need to actually micromanage squad movements.

In short, this research will likely shift the very paradigm of warfare. Being able to in real-time respond to enemy movements… the strategic value in that simply can't be measured.

"Can it be done?"

The bespectacled woman in front of me gives me an "Are you serious" kind of look before her head turns away slightly. She closes her eyes and puts a hand to her chin. I decide to let her have her time to think before saying anything.

"...I can't say it's definitely impossible. What's your budget?"

"Please ask Her Majesty about that, I was tasked with simply conveying the idea."

"I see. Alright, continue with its operation, then."

"Ideally, I'd like for it to be toggleable. Essentially, I can turn off the communication if I want to, such as if I'm sneaking into a building, I'd like to minimize any noise, along with not transmitting background noise the entire time."

"Understandable."

"As for multiple devices, I would like to be able to switch between let's say, channels. If, for example, we have devices A, B, and C, and device A and B are on channel one and C is on channel two, C should not be able to transmit to either of them nor receive their communications. If A wants to communicate with C, they'd have to switch channels."

"Now that is definitely something I'll say is impossible with what we know. If you want something like that, you would need multiple pairs of devices." She says, crossing her arms.

"Ah, thank you letting me know. Let me get into the design, then."

I then explain the ideal design, such as an earpiece, but having it be on the wrist such as a bracer wouldn't be so bad either. Professor Valliere still isn't sure if it's actually _possible_, but she was able to say that depending on the budget, it might _not _be _im_possible. So, I can hope that's the case.

"Thank you for taking the time to discuss this with me, Professor Valliere." I say as we get up, according to the clock an hour and a half later.

"It's part of my job. And after all, a request from the acting queen is very far and few between. This benefits us both."

Ah, I see. That's how it is. Henrietta probably knew she could get someone by making it her own request.

"I have to say though, I wasn't expecting such a difficult request."

"I apologize for that, Professor."

"You don't need to. We all have our jobs to do." She says, keeping that professional and to the point tone her mother used. "Well, you're lucky to have one of Academia's best wind mages on the project. Message is a wind element spell, after all."

"I'll thank my lucky stars, then. Would you like me to see you to the entrance of the castle?"

"Thank you for the offer, Field Commander, but I'll have to decline. I'd like to see if I can't discuss things with Her Majesty first, before I leave."

"I see. Well, thanks again, and safe travels then."

We exchange another brief handshake before she leaves, taking her suitcase and materials with her. Afterwards, Springfield steps back into the room, closing the door behind her.

"Were you waiting outside the entire time?"

"It was to prevent eavesdroppers, sir."

"I see. Thank you for that, Springfield. You can resume your duties, now."

"Thank you. Additionally, I would like to remind you that we are departing at nine hundred hours tomorrow for the Tristain Academy of Magic."

I nod. "I'm already packed as well, but thank you for the reminder. Are you packed?"

"Mhm, I'm ready to go. Shall I fetch and pack my weapon?"

"Bring it with you, but we'll hope that it doesn't become necessary to use." I say, leaning back in my chair. "Have you picked up on any other radio signals?"

"No, sir."

"Well, guess we'd have to get lucky for your short range sensors or for your radio broadcasts to pick up on them." I mumble, closing my eyes. "Think we'll ever find any?"

"The world is very large, so it's already very improbable. A lack of long range communication doesn't help us either, but I think it might be possible. I think you might also be able to persuade Her Majesty to look into foreigners who don't know the language here. Not all of them will have the luck I did to run into a mage."

"That's true. Though I figure they'll try to stay out of trouble and out of sight, their behaviors will give them away as foreign elements which will breed distrust. On the other hand, rural communities might reject them; it'll be easier to blend in the cities, because no one's going to care for the most part."

"However, there aren't any major sprawling city centers that are comparable to the ones we know. Or at least, none that I have seen myself. Tristain is a larger settlement, but it's still relatively small, so the word would definitively still spread."

"I suppose…"

Hmm…

"I wonder if there's a way we could signal them."

"Sir?" Springfield asks as I open my eyes, sitting up.

"Such as if we publicly identified ourselves as Griffin, spread the term "T-Doll", things like that. Any actual T-Dolls might take a look."

"They might also believe it to be a trap."

"I suppose, but we'll at least get a few who might not think it isn't." I say, leaning forward on my desk. "Though, since the name 'Musketeer' is already in place…"

"It's difficult. Hmm… Commander, I have a solution."

"What do you have, Springfield?"

"I'll propose a subsquad within the musketeers to Captain Agnes. Meant to take the specialists of various types of engagements for particularly high risk missions. This elite squadron will be henceforth referred to as the 'GK Team', with its members publically referred to as 'T-Dolls', short for Tactical Doll should it come into question."

"That's a good start, but there's a money trail that could be followed."

"In order to make it seem like they are separate from the musketeers, however, any expenses they incur will be listed as 'G&K Military'. Would that suffice, Commander?"

"It could, though you'd have to be careful with how much you're spending. Her Majesty should take care not to slash the funding of the Musketeers in order to fund our little 'G&K Military', or that'll be a potential link." I say with a small smile. It could definitely work, though. Uses all the terminology that would get a T-Doll to come to us.

"Of course."

"It might also help in making people think Henrietta's forces are more powerful, as well. While we're at a numerical disadvantage, the idea that she possesses in her ranks elite shock troopers could help morale."

"Do I have your permission to suggest it then, Commander?"

"I'll think on it tonight, Springfield. I'll let you know tomorrow morning."

She gives me a salute. "Yes, sir."

"Anyways, I think that's enough for tonight. I'll save the report reading for after we get to the Academy." I say, getting up from my chair. "I'll be retiring to my room now, so please feel free to go back to the barracks."

"Understood. Good night, Commander."

* * *

"Afternoon, Commander." Agnes says I disembark from the carriage. "Need a situation report?"

"Go ahead." I say, receiving my briefcase from Springfield before walking with Agnes along the paths. It's just as I was told. Walls forming a pentagon for the five elements of magic, one central building in the middle with hallways connecting each of the corners to the center.

"We've already set up shop in the northern classrooms. Most of the male students have been recalled in order to fight in the war, leaving a population of mostly female students."

"Most?"

"There's a few from other kingdoms that aren't obligated to fight."

"I see. So we're here for domestic peacekeeping?"

"On paper, we're here as this is a potential high value target. But…" Agnes lowers her voice. "...something like that."

"Understood. A bit of a sour surprise."

"We're not taking them in, but you have to keep your eyes open." Agnes says matter-of-factly. "In addition, I've taken the liberty of having the students engage in drills."

I stop walking with her, giving Agnes a very questioning look.

"With all due respect, Commander, this school is too large a property for us to adequately defend all at once. The teachers here are academics, not fighters. The least I can do is to teach the students enough to at least have an idea of how to fight so they can put up some resistance if we can't get to them in time."

I sigh, shaking my head.

"It's not that I don't think that's a tactically good move, but…" I pause, trying to find the words. "I've got moral qualms about introducing them to war. Call me old fashioned."

"Nothing old fashioned about that. But we do what we need to do to survive. This is war, now, and our enemy has shown itself to not be above dirty measures."

"I'd rather do it without dirtying my hands with the blood of children, though."

Agnes sighs, probably out of frustration. Maybe at me, and at the situation at large.

"I know how you feel. Some of those girls in the musketeers just barely turned of age as well. If they had any talent for magic they'd probably be here now, anyways. There's a difference to me when I take in a young one and build them up. You can teach them, help them learn, and really get it into their heads what fighting is." She says, her arms crossed as she looks away from me. "We don't have that luxury right now, so I'd appreciate it if you could at least work with me here."

"I wasn't telling you to stop. However, if you would at least allow them a semblance of normality in their lives, that would be appreciated."

"Classes are already suspended while the war goes on. Save for one professor, anyways, who insists on hosting his classes. Might as well give them something to do."

"Well, let them at least go to that one class."

"I was planning on it. I'm not as heartless as some people might think."

I get that there was an implied 'you might think', but she was just being courteous. "Well, at least let me attend one of your training sessions. What exactly are you teaching?"

"Survival. Basic self-defense. These students don't have the mentality to kill anyone." Agnes says as we resume walking towards the northern area. "There'd be no point to teaching them something like that, they'd just freeze up when it came time to actually take a life. So, I've taught them delaying tactics. Things like how to make an escape, how to pay attention to your surroundings, basic hand to hand self defense techniques, the sort."

"Well, you should have said that from the start. I would've been a bit more supportive of it."

"Sorry for the miscommunication then, Commande—you, over there. Out."

At that moment, Agnes had drawn her sidearm, which was similar in make to her musket but smaller, obviously, pointing it behind me. I turned around, stepping to the side in order to put some distance between Agnes and I.

I would say it was a meek, bald man that stepped out, dressed in humble dark grey robes. But the way he carried himself and his posture told me a different story. And much like Karin Valliere the other day, so too, had this man's eyes seen ruin. For Tristain's supposed inclination towards peace, there sure are a lot of... troubled souls.

Agnes sighs and holsters her weapon. "I should have known. I'm not changing my mind, Professor."

"I didn't come to make the case to you, Captain Agnes." He then looks at me. I see how it is.

"Captain, go on ahead. I'll ask the professor here to bring me to the classroom later. The least I can do is hear him out." I say, gesturing with my briefcase.

Agnes gives me a stern look before sighing, leaving the two of us. I reach out a hand as the professor comes forward, holding onto a wooden staff that looks more like a shepherd's cane.

"Oliver Penn Baker. Good to meet you, Professor…"

"Professor Jean Colbert, sir." He says, taking my hand and giving it a firm shake. Despite his meek frame, it has… strength behind it.

"You don't need to address me as 'sir', Professor. I understand you and the captain might not see eye to eye on the training of the students?"

"I don't know if you have the power to stop her, but you can at least argue for it, yes? For the Founder's sake, these are _children_. We should not be putting them even close to the flames of war."

I close my eyes and nod. "Something I would agree with you on, Professor. However, please understand that the musketeers aren't enough to cover the entire premises. We can't spare any more troops as it is with the mobilization for the campaign. Captain Agnes is doing what she can; she has informed me the drill curriculum consists primarily of survival techniques and hand to hand self-defense techniques. If it would placate you, I will personally sit in on those drills and ensure she stays to that, and if you'd like, you can observe. If there is something that is not to your liking, I would be willing to facilitate discussion."

"You're… a quite learned man, it seems." He says, perhaps taken aback by such an argument and willingness to cooperate. "But there's no magic about you, not even a familiar…"

"Perhaps my familiar is merely invisible right now, awaiting my command to spring into existence." I say, fully aware that higher education is generally reserved for the nobility, so my ability to make arguments in a business-like negotiation might be suspect to him.

My posture should give nothing away, as it's about as neutral as one can be. He only narrows his eyes, likely a bit suspicious of me.

"Are you a mage?"

"No, no I am not. Merely someone educated in war. But, regardless, I don't intend to make children fight war, Professor. If there should be an enemy attack on the Academy, then I pray that it will be on a front that musketeers are guarding so our students will not have to experience death and destruction."

"Let us hope that there will be no such attacks."

"Indeed. If there is anything else I can do for you, Professor, then please do not hesitate to come talk to me. If you cannot locate me, ask for First Lieutenant Sara, as she has taken on the duty of being my primary assistant."

"I will, then." He says with a nod. "Ah, allow me to show you to where the musketeers have made their headquarters, it's the least I could do."

"Ah, of course. Thank you. Though, if you have any time later, I'd like to ask what exactly your classes teach. While I certainly can't use it myself, knowing is always useful."

"I'm surprised you would take an interest in it." He says as we walk along the path. "Most commoners simply fear magic."

I can't help but smile a bit. "Well, believe me when I say this, professor, that despite all that magic is capable of, from all that I have read, there are still fears that all the magic in the world could never fix."

"If only that weren't true."

We both share a quiet, perhaps broken, chuckle at this, as we arrive to some hustle and bustle by the classrooms, like the rest of the musketeers getting set up. As Springfield waves after putting her own suitcase up on a table… well, yes. If only it weren't true, that magic couldn't solve every fear in the world.

"Well, good day then, Commander Baker."

"Same to you, Professor."

I wonder just what his story is, as he walks away. Perhaps I should look a little more into Tristain's history. It seems that despite Henrietta's leadership into peace, there's a bloody footnote somewhere. And maybe it will let me understand just why exactly it seems that Tristain is a gathering for the heavy-hearted…

* * *

**Well, all those who are familiar with FoZ know what's coming up. Mostly just a break chapter today. Sorry for the delay, too, but I got preoccupied with some travelling for conventions and whatnot.**

**Not much to say here, other than just Oliver meeting a few others and establishing things. I enjoyed writing his interactions with both Karin and with Colbert, as I felt that Oliver could probably see a bit of himself reflected in them. Also got to make it a bit of a characterizing moment for Oliver when he gives his definition of absolute victory; while technically saying "no losses" is an equivalent way of saying it, it would speak to what kind of person he was when he phrases it as "everyone comes home". Originally I had Karin ask him "Do you truly believe in miracles?", but I felt that wasn't very Karin-ish.**

**Also had some fun with how they could signal other T-Dolls to come over to them, in a way to sneakily reference Girls Frontline, though it does make a remote amount of sense that using the symbols would catch the attention of T-Dolls. Low key half the fun of writing this so far has been Oliver trying to figure out solutions using low tech/magic. FoZ's magic system is uh, kind of loose, to be honest, but like, there's a few rules as far as I remember, so it is slightly flexible, I suppose.**

**Anyways, not much to say other than that. Let me know what you thought of this chapter, and I guess see you guys next time.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: **Family Blood

* * *

"Amazing. Simply amazing."

To think that this man has built a steam engine. My God, what an achievement. To think he did it alone, as well. Based on what I have been told about the culture of mages here, along with what I have experienced from some of the students, I would say that the professor is but a credit to those who call themselves mages.

"Is it really?" Professor Colbert asks, although I can tell there's a bit of excitement in his voice.

"It is." I say. "I must confess that I'm quite familiar with these kinds of devices."

"Truly?"

"Yes. Why, is that so strange?"

He adjusts his stance to be somewhat more relaxed. "There's a boy that a second year student summoned as a familiar and he's already told me about crazy inventions that come from his homeland, supposedly."

"And these would be…?"

"Flying machines such as 'airplanes'...?" Professor Colbert says, as if unsure of the pronunciation. "He even brought one in for me, which I helped to repair for him. Another called a 'laptop', but he said it was out of power, so it was unusable."

A laptop…? Could it be someone from my time?

"May I know his name?"

"Ah, it's Saito Hiraga. Or was it Hiraga Saito? His name order confused me when he introduced himself. He said to just call him Saito."

Sounds Eastern by nature, but I don't know enough about their names to really make a call on which one is likely his given name. But, I'll ask if I somehow meet him.

"Where is he now?"

Professor Colbert shook his head. "He's off in the war with the student he serves, ah, Louise Valliere."

Valliere again, hm? It seems everything comes back to them. But at the same time, the word 'serves'... Henrietta did mention that making me a familiar would start some kind of brainwashing. I can only pray for that boy's soul now.

"Well, I'll hope for his survival. I'd like to talk with him."

"Indeed."

"Onto a happier topic, I suppose. I'm familiar with this engine of yours and the design is quite sound. While it's small scale now, if you were to expand it, add a few connecting rods, gears, and wheels, you could say, use the force to make a carriage drive itself. Granted, the weight would have to be held, but nothing that good design can't fix."

"A carriage to drive itself… my, I never even thought of that." He says with a bit of a smile. "Oh, I do hope that Saito returns. It would be a privilege to speak with the two of you."

"When you said he was a boy, how old are we talking?"

Professor Colbert shakes his head, sighing. "He couldn't be older than seventeen years."

"Tragic, to say the least."

"Quite."

"Well, then let us pray that he and his mage, along with all of the other students, avoid further tragedy."

"Are you religious?" Professor Colbert asks. I glance at him and see a few oddities in his shifted stance and eyes. Suspicion, fear, and… a bit of guilt? "I just find it a bit curious, as you frequently talk of prayer. You also have not even used the term 'Founder'."

"Ah, haha. Well, I do not follow the religion of this land, so that is why I do not swear upon this 'Founder' I have heard much about. I am from a far distant place where your religion has not even touched. And as for me talking so much of prayer, there is a saying that goes 'there is no such thing as an atheist in a foxhole'."

I see the professor slightly relax after my answer. I estimate that he has likely had a run in with zealots based on his reaction.

"Besides, when you're up against impossible odds, how can one not pray?" I ask with a chuckle. "If there is anyone willing to listen to the prayers of a single man to deliver his comrades to him safely, then I will take whatever I can get. So, one might say I'm religious, but I'm not exactly the kind of man who always goes to the cathedral to pray daily."

"Ah, I see. Sorry for the odd question, it's just that while I've heard stories of men and women who were so devoted to the Founder's religion they considered it taboo to even refer to him directly in any way, I've never met any of them. I was only wondering if you were one."

"No, no, definitely not. But thank you for being honest with me about that." I say, standing up from my makeshift seat of the one of the desks in the classroom.

"Though, I find it just a bit amusing you're more interested in this than the students were." He says with a bit of disappointment in his voice.

"Well, for those without magic, technology is all that's available to us. While at the moment you've used magic to create the fire to start off the engine, imagine if it had simply been created by a spark. A controlled device, that when you press the button, creates a spark and lights it up. Now imagine the self-driving carriage I spoke of. Imagine it now with farming tools on the back that till the ground as you drive by."

I see his eyes lighting up, already playing with ideas in his head. "You could revolutionize agriculture."

"Indeed. Farmers might be able to have longer rests, then. Or perhaps they could grow more crops in the same amount of time, whatever they so choose to do. Ah, though, I suppose it might affect the economy in various ways that are beyond my comprehension. I'm not too well versed on the economy of Halkeginia, I suppose."

"My goodness, it's hard to believe you aren't a professor somewhere else, let alone a nobleman. Someone without magic who is not only able to understand the intricacies of this steam engine, but also know economics." He says, eyeing me a bit suspiciously once again. "Are you sure you're not a mage?"

"Absolutely sure, Professor."

"I see…"

"Though with someone of your intellect, I'm surprised you aren't working for Academia. I've met one of their most prominent figures and I daresay that you'd blow them all away."

Professor Colbert simply shakes his head. "They are concerned purely with researching magic. I find myself drawn to asking how magic can be used to fuel the mundane, if you'll excuse the pun due to the steam engine."

"Ah, I see, I see. Yes, that would be quite the difference in mentality. Can I ask what drives you to research su—"

Before I can finish my question, there's a knock on the door.

"Yes?" Professor Colbert asks. "Come in."

A Royal Musketeer opens the door, saluting to me. "Sorry for the interruption, sirs. Commander, First Lieutenant Sara is asking for you. She says it's urgent. Something about a 'radio signature', she said you'd understand."

I immediately reach for my briefcase and nod. "Sorry to cut this short Professor Colbert, but perhaps another time."

He simply laughs, if a bit self-derisively. "Well, the war has given me a lot more free time, so my office is always open."

"I see. Thank you for your time." I say, turning to the musketeer. "Please lead the way."

* * *

"Sara."

Springfield looks up at me as I step onto the ramparts where they're overlooking the perimeter of the school. Everyone's slightly scattered if only to provide more eyes, but not too much where we can't actually respond to a threat in time.

"Are we alone?" She asks, glancing about.

I close the door I took behind me, then look around as well before checking the immediate area, but it seems like I wasn't followed and the closest musketeer is out of earshot.

"Seems like it for now. Sitrep."

"Approximately ten minutes ago, I detected a radio signal originating from the forests nearby the academy. I responded to it, but instead of receiving a reply back, it was terminated."

"Nature of the signal?"

"An emergency broadcast, an SOS. I believe, Commander, they terminated it when I responded as they were surprised about receiving the signal."

"I suppose they ought to be suspicious of a returned signal here."

"Your orders, sir?"

"Broadcast your own radio message again, unencrypted. Identify yourself and let them know there is a Griffin commander here, and if they can respond, come to the entrance closest to the forests. We'll receive them there."

"Copy that, sir. I'll begin right away, and will dictate it out for your approval. Please standby." She pauses, holding a hand to her right ear. "This is Griffin T-Doll M1903 Springfield, broadcasting on an open channel. Please identify yourself at once, your emergency signal has been received. There is a Griffin commander here waiting to receive you at the entrance of the compound closest to the forest. I will leave this message on loop for the next thirty minutes, please respond if you are receiving it. Is that adequate, Commander?"

"It'll do. Now we just have to wait. By the way, you don't need to actually dictate it to me. You guys have internal comms, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. However, I wanted to vocalize it so you would be able to hear what I was telling them. If we need to be subtle, I don't need to vocalize it." Springfield pauses, smiling. "Though, it is a bit lucky that we don't currently have to conceal the mere presence of our broadcasts."

"Haha, isn't that true? No SF trying to sniff us out by tracking where a broadcast is coming from. And I hope it stays that way. Are you continuing to broadcast?"

"Yes, sir. I'm broadcasting the recorded message on a loop."

"Sorry, it's still just a bit strange not to be hearing it. But, thank you."

"Mhm… oh, Commander, I'm receiving a signal in return. Yes, this is Griffin T-Doll M1903 Springfield. Yes, I understand. I will direct you to the entrance if you do not see it. Please stand by, the Commander is on his way."

"I'll be right down."

"Mhm. Yes, go ahead, you are clear to move."

* * *

"Professor."

"Oh, I didn't expect to see you so—by the Founder, what happened to—"

"No time to explain." I say, laying the Spectre M4 T-Doll we picked up on one of the large desks in his office. While she could walk herself and the other T-Doll that accompanied her was helping, I tried to give some further assistance but it seems that I've forgotten that T-Dolls are… surprisingly heavy despite their appearance. But I think it was slightly faster.

Spectre's hair is somewhat singed, her clothes are charred, most especially her right stocking which has been all but burned off entirely, several internals of her left leg are exposed, apparently having been melted by something, and part of what forms the equivalent of her leg bone is also partially melted.

"What happened to her…? And more importantly, what…" He asks as he looks over her.

"I'll explain to you later. Professor, before I continue, not a _word_ to Captain Agnes."

He glances at me, where I'm sure he can see the seriousness on my face. Agnes cannot find out _now_, but perhaps later. I will have to explain it on my own terms, and I would rather not her be hostile to me while it happens.

"Do I have your word you will explain it to me?"

"You have my word."

"...very well. She appears to be some kind of golem that mimics the human anatomy."

"That would be correct. Do you have any copper?"

"Yes, I do," He says, going through multiple cabinets. "Anything else?"

"Some kind of precision melting tool."

"Commander." PPK, the other T-Doll that was accompanying Spectre M4 says, raising a hand. Her black maid dress is mostly unharmed, or at least the ashes are hidden behind its black hue. However, her headdress has sustained some damage along with her hair having some damage. "If you mean to conduct circuit repairs, you will need some kind of solder or similar alloy."

"Right, right… What do you recommend?"

"In the absence of lead solder, we'll need tin, copper, and silver."

"Thank you. Professor?"

"Er, I didn't understand her…?"

Oh, dammit, right.

"Professor, do you know a translation spell? If so, can you cast it on the two of them?"

"Of course."

"PPK, Spectre, standby." I say, with the first of the two nodding. I hear Professor Colbert say an incantation of sorts before pointing his wand at PPK, then repeating it for Spectre. "PPK, can you tell the professor what you told me?"

"We'll need tin, copper, and silver."

"I have some lying around. As for the precision heating tool, I do have a spell for it that utilizes my wand."

How convenient, magic is.

"But, Commander."

"PPK?"

"You were not listening to me earlier, as you were highly panicked about Spectre's condition. As I was trying to tell you as you continued to ignore me, her circuitry is mostly undamaged. The most that has happened is some of the wires have their coating melted together, but unless you have replacements—"

"Ah, I see. Sorry, I was just in such a rush from seeing the inside of her leg… okay, okay. This is good." I mumble, shaking my head. "Okay, so instead, we'll work on that leg bone. Do you have steel, Professor?"

"Yes, I do…?"

"Good. We'll need to cut or form it to match her leg bone area, then fuse it together. Spectre, can you hear me?"

"Com… mmander?" She breathes out, still in pain.

"If you have access to it, please forward a copy of your schematics to PPK, or if not, just send whatever you can to her that will help her repair your leg. We'll need it in order to make precision repairs… or at least, as close as we can to precision repairs."

"Yes, sir."

"Alright. Now then, please just rest while we work on this."

"I have the baseline for what diagnostics check against, Commander. Please allow me to get a look at her exposed leg so I can calculate the cutout by comparing it to what diagnostics expect."

I nod at this, allowing PPK to step forward.

"Professor, if you have a steel block and something to mark it with, that'd be a huge help." I say, with Professor Colbert nodding. "Then we'll need a sheet of steel to seal over the exposed area."

"I should have plenty around from all my failed engine prototypes. I'll get right to it."

"PPK, assist the professor in carving out the steel replacement when you're finished."

"Just finished analyzing it, sir. I'll be right on my way."

I then sandwich Spectre's left hand with my own two hands, gripping tightly. "Stay with us, Spectre. Help is on the way."

While it's not exactly a critical injury, I can't imagine that having your leg burned open like that could be any fun. Since I'm not a mechanic or able to really help with the repairs, I do basically the only thing that I can do: be there for the T-Dolls.

A minute or two later, PPK taps me on the shoulder, with the professor holding out a small steel cutout.

"Alright, we're going to have to weld it in place, then we'll place the metal sheet around the exposed leg and weld it shut. Can you do that, Professor?"

"I can try."

"That's as good as it's going to get. Got gloves, professor?"

He nods, holding a pair up. "I figured you'd need them to deal with the heat."

"Thanks." I say, taking them from him and putting them on. "PPK, help me out in placing the replacement part. I'll hold it still while the professor here fuses the two together."

"Yes, sir."

I then attempt to match the block in, with PPK instructing me in how to rotate it in properly, down to the very degree.

"There. Hold it still."

"Understood. Professor?"

"I'm on it."

I see him chant, or I suppose it's a chant, for a few seconds as he holds a needle in his hands. The tip begins to glow a bright red as he leans in, slowly melding the two together. This isn't truly welding, but… magic sure is amazing.

"Your subordinate gave me a brief explanation of the process you wanted. Unfortunately I don't have something like that, but I can at least compensate for it. There's a bit of extra metal on the replacement part, so I can melt that to fill the crevices and attach the two. It's very crude, but if you believe it will get the job done for now..."

"Thank you."

"And… done. What's next?"

"We're going to have to close the hole temporarily. I'd prefer something dedicated for job, but for now we just have to make do. Do you have the sheet?"

"Right here."

"Good. Let's wrap it around and seal it shut."

I can hear Spectre hiss in pain from the metal being heated around her leg, but it's the best we're going to be able to do at this point. It's rather clunky, too, since where her slim leg was is now a rather ugly tube of metal that encases her wound, even if the tube itself isn't that thick, being less than half an inch. It should prevent her internals from being exposed, but as much as I hate to say it, Spectre likely won't be combat ready for a long time, if ever.

"Thanks, professor. PPK, can I entrust you with looking after her while I explain things to the professor?"

"Leave it to me, sir."

I lead Professor Colbert out of the room, walking past Springfield, who was watching the door, and into a nearby classroom, closing the door behind us.

"She's a golem, isn't she? Some kind of strange golem, I haven't seen one with such an intricate interior." He asks as I sit down on top of a desk.

"You could say that." I say, letting him draw his own conclusions. "I used to command them, back in the day."

"Is that girl one of yours?"

"No. But, it's likely she's worked with one of my former coworkers, so she'll be responsive to me. I'd appreciate if you could keep this quiet, too, professor. The last thing I need is for some magical research group trying to kidnap those girls to do research on them. Especially considering how Spectre's injury isn't going away any time soon."

"I'll keep it a secret as best as I can." He says, nodding quickly.

"Thank you. Ah, and do let me know how much the parts cost to fix her. I'll make sure you're properly reimbursed for it."

"Please don't feel a need to. It's what anyone would've done."

"It's materials for your research, likely taken out of private funds. Even if it is simply goodwill to help, professor, it is still good to reward such a thing." I say, getting up from my seat. "Now then, let's go back and talk to her."

"That's all?"

"I was expecting more questions, but you hit the nail on the head the first time around." I say with a shrug, hoping to pass it off.

"Despite her nature as a golem, though, I can't detect any magic from her. Can you explain that one to me?"

I pause, close to the door. "Similar to a golem, but not quite, professor. If you want to really know, you could say something closer to an 'artificial human', born of science, not magic."

"So something more close to alchemy?"

"If you and I have the same idea of what alchemy is, then I suppose. However, please understand when I don't want to say anything more. After all, it might be dangerous to tell you."

"Dangerous?"

"I'll simply say that she's very advanced for this day and age." I say, glancing back at him. "Imagine I were to tell you, and then imagine that your research and notes about the subject were stolen. It could cause a tremendous change, one that could radically shift power and would also change war. Are you ready to accept that responsibility?"

I see him hesitate to say anything back, likely understand that to be the case. Forgive me, professor, for using this excuse. But this world simply can't know about T-Dolls just yet.

"Though, I'd like to talk with her alone, first. Security, if you will."

"I understand. I'll wait outside, then?"

"I'll have Sara call you in when it's time." I say, walking ahead. I pass by Springfield, who nods and opens the door, where Spectre is looking down at her relatively fixed leg, and PPK is holding her hand. The two snap to a salute when I walk in.

"At ease, you two." I say, the door closing behind me. "Spectre, I apologize for the jury-rigged fix, but it's the best we can do to prevent any further damage to your internals. Good job on making it here."

"No welcoming party?" Spectre asks with a bit of a forced smile. I can't help but chuckle in reply, taking a seat near them. "Commander, what is the situation?"

"As wacky as it sounds, we're in an alternative world. This place has magic, magical beasts, wizards, queens and princesses, the like. A world untainted by the Sangvis, I suppose. But at the same time, T-Dolls are not a thing here. It's unlikely we'll ever get your leg truly repaired."

I can see Spectre's expression visibly darken at that. As I remember, she's an SMG type T-Doll. They are generally used in short range skirmishes and are excellent dodgers, but… with that leg injury, that's not about to happen.

"Then, Commander, whatever are we going to do?" PPK asks, looking at me.

"Survive. Continue to get by, see if we can't find a way home. It's all we can do. Besides, Springfield's been doing it for a lot longer than I have. With any luck, we'll be able to find something to repair you as well."

I see PPK nod at this, likely understanding the situation. There's no real objective here. We just have to keep living until we can find a way home.

"But, more importantly—what happened to you?"

"We were attacked by a group of… fire throwers?" Spectre pauses, looking at PPK as if to confirm. PPK nods, so Spectre continues. "We thought that they might be helpful to us, but we ended up simply being attacked. We escaped into the woods and have been on the run since. However, they focused their fire on Spectre's leg, so I believe they meant to capture us. They're capable of using beam attacks, similar to some reported Ringleaders."

"How long ago was this?" I ask, trying to figure it out. They might have been fire mages, then. I'll have to finish their briefing later on what exactly being… _here_ entails.

"Two days ago. We thought we were on the way to Germania, but we're unable to find a map and until that professor did that… translating spell, you said? Until then, we weren't able to communicate with anyone for a map. We're also unable to defend ourselves from those fire throwers due to a lack of Anti-Human protocols. It would damage us otherwise."

"I see. I'll have Springfield give you hers, then. Are your internal clocks able to be manually set?"

"Yes, sir. We're off the network, so we're relying on manually set clocks now." Spectre says back, PPK nodding in agreement again.

"Alright, follow her advice on how to properly set them to maximize the amount of time they last. Do you know what direction they're going?"

"Based on how they were walking, they'll… be here in a day or two? We're able to move faster, as we don't have to stop and eat, plus we kept traveling in the night. But if they kept pace with us, then they'll be here sooner rather than later." PPK says after thinking for a bit. "It's a bit difficult considering how we got spun around in the forest, but if they weren't leaving here, then they're _definitely_ coming here."

A potential attack on the Academy, hm? I'll have to inform Ag—

The door then flies open, with Agnes stepping in. Speak of the devil. "Commander."

"Captain. I see you've been informed of what happened."

"I have. You weren't exactly subtle in bringing them here, all of the other musketeers saw them. I also wasn't aware that Sara is your personal assistant now." She says, glancing over the two new T-Dolls.

"Well, Sara was the one who reported catching sight of them, so I had her here as well."

"I see…" I can tell that she's slightly suspicious of what exactly the relationship between Springfield and I is. I suppose now, considering that there are a grand total of three T-Dolls present, it might be time to at least explain the truth, at least partially, to Agnes. It would alleviate any tensions that might arise otherwise, especially if she believes that 'Sara' is getting too 'friendly' with me, or so to say. "Strays?"

"They're people I used to command." I say, with Agnes pausing due to that. "It seems they've found their way here as well."

I see Agnes close the door behind her and walk up to me. "Do you mean that as in your cover, or…"

"As in, from another world."

"Ufufu, is this your lover, Commander?"

I see Agnes laugh at that one as she steps away from me. That one actually kind of hurts, Agnes.

"No, this is Captain Agnes, of the Royal Musketeers. I've been working with her after being brought here. Captain, this is Spectre M4 and PPK."

"Strange names."

"We live in strange times." I say, Agnes shrugging at that. "With your permission, I'd like for them to join us."

"Can they be trusted?"

"They'll follow my orders." I say with confidence, getting a nod from the two of them. "Spectre is injured for now, though. It will be some time before we can get her healed."

"I see. We don't have any spare uniforms, but if you trust them… then I suppose I will have to, for the meantime. You've earned some trust from me, Commander, but you know what they say. Trust, but verify."

"I don't know how to prove they're from another world, but if you want proof they're really on our side, they mentioned a squad of fire mages that might be coming to the Academy."

I see Agnes' eyes narrow for a second. Suspicion, but a slight bit of anxiety. She's probably gauging whether or not to follow through on the claim.

"Well, let's listen to what they have to say, then. We'll see if they're trustworthy or not."

"Mhm. PPK, give me the full details, we'll get everyone situated."

* * *

"Ah, Commander, could you stay for a bit?"

PPK gives me a smile as Agnes calls out to me after the briefing to all the musketeers, as she wanted to relay all information to everyone, including the teachers. I wave her off, with Springfield dragging the potentially problematic handgun T-Doll off with her.

"Sure. What did you need to talk about?"

"In a bit."

Agnes waits until the room is completely cleared out before locking the door behind them. "Those two girls, I wanted to talk to you in private about them. Obviously, the professor knows about them. So I want you to tell me what you told him."

"Understandable. Well, they're golems, to put it quickly. I commanded them back in the day."

"Put it thoroughly, then."

"Alright. I also told Colbert they're more similar to 'artificial humans' created through alchemy."

"I see…" Agnes mumbles, crossing her arms. "That makes a bit of sense. They're far too complex to be a normal golem, based on the ones I've encountered. So, anything else?"

"If you want it thoroughly, well, I suppose yes. They're 'artificial humans' meant to respond to commands from humans."

"And how do we know the enemy won't just command them back?"

"I'm registered at their commander."

"Registered?" She asks. Ah, I suppose it wouldn't make sense to someone who isn't familiar with computers. It's not like they run off a physical document or something.

"Er, think of it as logical imprinting."

Agnes raises an eyebrow at this, clearly a bit confused.

"They aren't actually, you know, imprinting on me, but they've recognized me as their leader. The uniform helps, as they recognize it too. Not that it's a requirement, but it helped identify me as a member of the force they served. They're highly advanced, so they're able to make that logical decision that I am indeed a commander of that force they've served."

"Interesting… you have to understand my hesitation of them being directly under you, then."

"Of course. If you'd like, I can ask them if it's possible to register you as a commander. They'll respond to your orders just as well."

"That won't be necessary… yet, anyways. I want to trust you for now. So, I remember from our introduction. You said you handled infantry deployments. What weapons are they versed in?"

"I thought you'd ask that." I say back. "I'll use PPK's weapon as an example, so don't get jumpy, okay?"

Agnes nods, but looks somewhat confused, as I pull out PPK's assigned weapon from its holster at my waist. Before the briefing began, I asked her to borrow it, having anticipated Agnes' asking about this.

"This is also my proof they're from the outside world, like me." I say, carefully laying it on the table between us. "Do you recognize the shape?"

I see Agnes' eyes tracing the very structure of the gun. "That explains why you took to commanding the musketeers so easily."

There's a brief silence in the air as she inspects it visually.

"You can touch it."

I see a brief flash of embarrassment on Agnes' face as she scoffs, looking away for a second.

"I was just awaiting your permission for inspection."

"The soldiers I commanded used firearms, too. Compared to yours, though, ours are incredibly advanced." I say, as Agnes lifts up the gun and weighs it in her hands. She's able to get how to hold it properly likely by instinct.

"I don't think I can quite see the loading mechanism."

"Ah, it's different than what you're used to."

"Can you explain it to me?"

"I can." I say as Agnes puts the gun back down. Another pause.

"Well?"

"But I won't."

"And why's that?"

I close my eyes for a second and sigh before opening them as I take the gun back. "Unfortunately I cannot let you research it, which includes understanding them more fully, because they still need them, so experimentation is out of the question. And of course, I'll tell you the same thing I told Colbert. That is, it's dangerous to let research be done."

"Dangerous how?"

"It might be safe to let you research them, Agnes, but what if your research falls into the wrong hands? What if we develop an advanced weapon, and it is captured and turned on us, with enemies that have more war production potential than us? That's not a risk I'm willing to take. Thus, I'll elect to leave these weapons with those who are best at defending them."

"Your soldiers nearly got burned by a group of fire mages."

"They were caught off guard in a strange land they knew nothing of and couldn't understand anyone until a translation spell was given to them. I can assure you that it won't happen again. Besides, Spectre wasn't at risk of being destroyed. She might not be able to run as fast, but allow me to assure you that she's still just as deadly."

"That remains to be seen, but since you've been so transparent I'll trust you. For now."

"For now?"

"Our time's short, so I can't get the full story out of you. But after this, I want the whole truth, Commander Oliver Penn Baker." Oh, the full name. I'm definitely in trouble. "And I'd like your permission to cross reference with your golem troops separately."

"You'll have my full cooperation. But, I'd like one thing in return."

"And that is?"

"I'd like to know the story behind the development of your guns. They certainly are very advanced for the age, so I'd like to know how they came to be."

"...a fair exchange, I suppose. It's not like there's too much to tell, in the end. Very well."

"Then, is there anything else?"

"Ah, yes, before you go, the other reason I called you alone."

"Hm?"

"I took the liberty of preparing a firearm for you." Agnes says, reaching for the floor and pulling up a suitcase of sorts. She lays it flat on the table before undoing the locks, then turns it to face me. "Go on."

"Is this a welcoming ritual?"

"It's a symbol of trust. That you're one of us now, Oliver. Based on the first operation you led us down and the princess' faith in you, I figured it was appropriate."

I carefully open the case, finding a handgun that looks very similar to the one Agnes pulled on Colbert the other day. It's certainly old fashioned for me, being a breechloader like the rest of their firearms. Plenty of ammunition inside as well, I'd say approximately thirty bullets, along with a proper holster. I won't be packing a lot of heat considering how I'm supposed to be staying in the back, but it'll do.

I won't say I'm an expert marksman either, but I had my training in shooting. Not to mention that I would frequently ask my girls to show me the ropes. I wanted to understand what it felt like. So I would know what I was ordering them to do.

"Sara found out about it, so she thought it might be nice to give you an engraving on the barrel." Agnes explains as I look at the marking on the barrel of the gun, which almost immediately drew my attention.

M1903. Of course that would be it. Is this you saying you'll be with me until the end, Springfield?

"What does it mean, if you feel like sharing? You've got a smile on your face."

"M1903 is…" I pause, trying to figure out a way to word this. Well, if she went so far as this with getting involved, there's no harm in being a bit playful. It's likely to reach Springfield's ears, anyways, whatever my answer is. "...a goddess of victory who is said to always be walking with me. One of many, that we, the commanders of my home world, placed our faith in. I told Sara about her when we were making idle talk."

"I see… considering those girls, PPK and Spectre M4, it's not strange to hear that's a name. Your world has a very strange naming sense."

I can't help but chuckle at both the fact Agnes seemed to buy it and of course, her observation of the names.

"Speaking of Sara, you seem to be getting very friendly with her, Commander."

"Is that an issue?"

Agnes shakes her head. "Not in particular. However, while we currently don't have an internal fraternization policy, try not to do anything that will make me have to write one, got it?"

I only laugh at this as I set the gun back down in its case and close it. "You won't have to worry about that, Agnes. Anyways, I'll be at my post."

"Good luck out there."

"Same to you."

* * *

"I'm not quite sure how I feel about this." Spectre mumbles to herself, weighing the musket in her hands. Agnes brought over a few extra in the event we needed them, so we've temporarily given one to Spectre. PPK on the other hand, is still able to dodge and distract the enemy, so she wasn't given one so she can run around more easily.

However, we are incredibly limited on ammo. Spectre is down to five magazines and a half empty one already loaded. PPK is at four and one fourth, with her gun now returned to her after I borrowed it for my case to Agnes. A lot more ammo than Springfield in the 'total shots' department, but it's… a lot less than I'd like.

Fortunately, we now have PPK to play runner. Spectre can utilize her radio to talk with PPK and Springfield, thus being essentially our radio operator. Not to say that PPK can't directly talk with Springfield, but Springfield is going to be far away from us as she's playing sniper, and we're a bit further away so that way we're not close to the battle.

"You'll get used to it." Springfield says with a small smile. "Commander, one question?"

"Go for it."

"Should I use the musket, or…"

"If you think it's a necessity, use your normal weapon. I'll leave it to your discretion, but it doesn't seem like this one should necessitate it. If the situation comes up, it's your call. You got that too, PPK?"

"_Yes, sir~"_ PPK's voice calls back over the radio, which Spectre has on speaker for now. _"Emergencies only."_

"Good. Confirm Anti-Human protocols are set?"

"_They are _thoroughly _loaded, Commander." _PPK says with a lot more enthusiasm than I'm comfortable with. I suppose that other commanders did mention that their PPK dolls had a… semi-sadistic side to them.

"Spectre, confirming that Anti-Human protocols have been set properly."

"All systems green, including those protocols, Commander." Springfield says before saluting. "I'll return to my post, now."

"All are good copies, over. And alright, Springfield. Keep us posted on anything strange you see."

"That's Sara now, isn't it?" She says with a playful smile before leaving, the setting sun shimmering off of her hair as she walks away.

According to our intel, it's likely that they will be coming through the forest. When we gave this information to the staff, they began to set up defenses and also had the students take shelter in the inner sections of the school, where they will hopefully be out of the crossfire.

Strangely enough, it was Colbert who brought up the question of what they looked like, along with if they had identified anyone in that group. More specifically, if there was anyone with a scar over their left eye, and an eyepatch over their right. I did not question him about it right away, as he would no doubt be evasive, however upon PPK confirming that there was indeed a person who fit this description in the caravan of people heading here, I decided I would give Colbert's assessments and advice a greater degree of consideration.

We aren't concentrating our defenses just yet. Colbert informed us that we were likely dealing with an advanced group of specialists. When I asked how he knew, just as a confirmation, he admitted that as a fire mage, he was apparently once asked to join them, but he did not agree with their message.

I detected hints of truth, but also lies in the way he worded it. A story created from truths, perhaps. It wasn't the full story, but considering how he appeared under heavy duress, and not from lying, I decided to appear as if I bought it. It was the eyes, I suppose. Something in them told me of fear. Like finding an old friend is now serving with the enemy.

Thus, the objective was to create the image of weaknesses on two fronts. It would be suspect to have a baited weakness in the area facing the forest. Thus, giving two might make it look like we were spread thin. However, our deployments were such that upon knowing where the attack was coming from, all personnel could move to swiftly intercept.

We'd be maintaining this guard for the next few nights, and if a week went by with nothing, we'd send a scouting force into the forest. PPK and Spectre didn't give exact numbers, but they reported that we should expect at least twenty enemy soldiers. To be conservative, we assumed them all to be fire mages.

A dedicated attack force versus a dedicated defense force. I just hope this turns out for the best. And more importantly, I'll have to question Professor Colbert on this later. This group seems like a potential infiltration cell that should be brought up to Henrietta. She should be aware of all possible threats to her, especially on the domestic front.

"Well, get comfortable, Spectre. We're in for a long night."

* * *

**So, I actually pushed back some things for next chapter because lmao what even is actual planning. The whole thing with Spectre took a lot longer so I wanted to pace it out a bit. Probably the most contentious part of the chapter for me, to be honest. The extent of Spectre's damage originally included some actual damage to her wiring, but I decided against that as I looked into the composition of solder even if I'm familiar with the process of it (engineering, yo!), and simply reduced it to her leg "bone" being partially melted away and them needing to restructure it.**

**Granted, I suppose it's a **_**mite**_** bit convenient that the injury was like that, but I suppose it was believable enough that some fire mages might have been able to melt away part of her leg, if you thought they were all firing together or something. For those familiar with FoZ, I figured it was an acceptable power level for who you know is showing up soon; for those not, well, I guess that's next chapter. But I think that for fire mages, even if it wasn't shown in show, some kind of concentrated fire/heat beam that would be capable of melting through metal is something that sounds in the realm of possibility. FoZ's magic system isn't exactly like, super concrete? There's some room to play around. It does mean that I'll have to keep checking for internal consistency though lol.**

**Either way, not much other than that. Originally Spectre and PPK would show up later, but considering how I decided to move forward with a T-Doll centric approach, all the more reason to move their appearance up. Spectre was the hardest to write as she has, compared to Springfield's motherly/formal/elegant style of dialogue and PPK's somewhat smug-sadistic-ish feel, she has a very… plain and vanilla style for her lines? I mean I suppose it makes her stand out a bit, haha, but it was a bit hard writing her dialogue.**

**As for the T-Doll communications, I had it both where they can vocalize what's going over the radio, but also they can transmit it quietly without making noise. I figured that wasn't exactly a large leap in logic considering that they have computational parts. They could simply compute what they're going to sound like and transmit it, allowing the others to receive the message without talking (a la Springfield retransmitting her message over and over). Additionally there was Spectre on speaker, allowing Oliver to hear PPK, rather than just Spectre. Could be kind of fun, seeing as it's a bit like telepathy to anyone not versed in T-Dolls.**

**I felt Agnes jumped a little too quickly to trust them, but my line of logic was that Agnes trusts Oliver, and if Oliver trusts the newcomers, then she'll at least give them a chance; additionally, Oliver doesn't seem like the type to lie about people coming from his world, so to her he has very little reason to claim Spectre and PPK are unless it's true. But maybe you could interpret it as their trust in one another growing over his showcase of dedication. Well, either way, see you all next time.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: **Under Fire

* * *

"Get down!"

I yank a musketeer's shoulder down, a red beam soaring over our heads. I trace the beam that goes into the wall, where the apparently magically enchanted walls slowly give in over a period of about ten seconds before the rock starts to glow red, turning molten.

"S-sir!"

"Get to the rally point!" I yell, glancing back over rubble before ducking down again.

"But sir, you need to get back, too!"

I take a look over at Spectre, who is still digging herself out of the rubble. When they attacked, they immediately attempted to bombard all of the towers, thus denying any of us a height advantage. The magic on the walls gave us some time to escape, but not _enough_ time to get clear.

"No one left behind. Go!"

I keep low as I move over to Spectre, quickly lifting what rocks I can.

"You should go, Commander. There's no point for an SMG T-Doll who can't even dodge."

"I don't leave people behind. Now cover me, I'm getting you out of there."

"_Commander? Commander, do you read me~?" _PPK's voice says, as Spectre has been on speaker so I can hear any incoming broadcasts.

"The commander can hear you loud and clear, PPK." Spectre says as I grunt, rolling over a rather large rock over Spectre's undamaged leg.

"_I've been engaged by four of these fire throwers, and we are pinned down on the northern end."_

I push over another rock, slowly freeing Spectre's leg. "Continue to hold out, casualties?"

"_Two musketeers are dead, one is bleeding, and one is fine."_

"Copy that. Springfield, status!"

"_No good either, Commander. Red Squad has been engaged and we have one casualty so far. We can't make an opening, there's just too many eyes on our position."_

Dammit!

We underestimated the amount of people they were sending. Spectre and PPK reported at least twenty, but it looks more like thirty. Because of that, we don't even have the numbers advantage that we normally get when the musketeers gang up on a target to provide covering fire. It's basically one to one since it's thirty two musketeers against maybe thirty mages, and in one to one with a mage and musketeer, especially at this range… the battle's almost already decided.

"PPK, is there a retreat available to you if we can make an opening?" I ask, finally managing to remove all the heavy rubble from Spectre's leg. "Same for you, Springfield."

"_If you would make an opening, Commander, then we may be able to escape and rally." _PPK says before being interrupted by some gunfire. _"However, I don't know how you'll do it."_

I glance at Spectre and bite my lip.

"Sir, I'll do it."

"Was I that obvious?"

"This is the duty of T-Dolls, Commander. Even if I'm injured like this, this is what I was designed to do. Give me the order, and I'll fulfill it."

I pause, hesitating, remembering what it was like to lose a T-Doll, completely and utterly. There were no dummy links here, and not even the potential of a memory backup. If Spectre was obliterated tonight, there would be no second chances. But it's all that we have. I have to put my trust in her, and believe she will deliver us to victory, just like I always did.

"Spectre." I say, my left hand twitching. "I'm authorizing the use of your main weapon. However, please use discretion."

"Understood, sir."

"Hand me your musket, might pack a bit more punch than the pistol I have. We're going to make an opening for Springfield. Springfield, do you copy?"

"_Sir?"_

"We're going to break open the enemy formation near you." I say as Spectre hands me her musket and ammo. "When we do so, proceed to reach a vantage point that overlooks PPK's position. Do you have it?"

"_Yes, I have her position, sir."_

"PPK, Springfield will alert you when she's able to provide overwatch. Springfield, direct her as necessary in order to get PPK out of there."

"_Understood, sir. I'll await your signal."_

"Spectre, let's go. Everyone else, keep me posted if the situation changes."

Spectre and I keep our heads low, ducking beneath debris and occasionally firing a shot to delay an enemy mage from attacking us, once or twice managing to clip someone and I think delivering at least one fatal shot. She's got an injured leg, but she's keeping up. Though, I can tell that she's compensating for her leg.

"What's the game plan, Commander?" Spectre asks as we stick close to the walls, as the center area of the school is still being kept locked up to prevent an easy walk-in access.

"We're going to play rabbit, Spectre. As best as we can, anyways."

"Got it, sir."

"Unfortunately, I'm not very well versed in their firearms, so I'm going to be able to get one, two shots maximum. Don't rely on me to bail you out."

"Should I simply attempt to kill them all?"

"We're trying to buy an opportunity for them to leave, so with any luck the remaining musketeers and Springfield will be able to take them out. If you're cornered, don't hesitate."

"Understood, sir."

"It's more important to me you come back alive than you keep all of your ammo, Spectre." I say as I hold a hand up, peeking around the corner. Springfield and two musketeers are keeping their heads behind some debris, occasionally poking up to return fire, but unable to get a clear shot off. "Three targets, ten o'clock relative to Springfield at twelve."

I exchange places with Spectre, who also peeks around the corner. "Targets confirmed, sir. I'll patch you through to Springfield?"

"Do it."

"She's listening."

"Springfield, you hear me?"

"_Sir?"_

"Spectre and I are in position. When she makes her move, make your way over to the corridor at your nine o'clock position. We are in cover there."

"_Copy that, sir."_

Frankly it feels like cheating in how we can communicate like this. Almost like telepathy, as the enemy has no way to know of us being here, as Springfield's communications with us give zero indication of our presence. But I suppose that's our absolute trump card.

And it's what we're going to exploit every single battle.

"On your mark, Springfield."

"_Got it! Alright everyone, ready? We're going to make our big move."_

I see Spectre tense up, readying to sprint out.

"_Ten seconds, commander."_

"Copy." I say, looking behind us to make sure no one's about to sneak up on us.

I mentally begin counting down the second.

"—_wo, one. Mark!"_

"Go!"

Spectre rushes out and I take a knee behind her, aiming down one of the fire mages. Since it's noisy, I wait until Spectre has their attention until I open fire, clipping one of them in the side but not getting a lethal shot off.

"Go, go, go!"

I see Springfield head out of her foxhole, along with two of her comrades that are still living. One of them is carrying the third, despite the reported casualty.

I managed to reload in time due to them providing covering fire, but only one of them manages to land a fatal hit on one of the fire mages keeping them pinned. Springfield also ducks behind a piece of debris to reload while her squad continues to move to my signal, with me simply looking over their shoulders to make sure no one is aiming at them.

"Ha!"

I hear Spectre cry out as she leaps to the left, having used her still good right leg and high speed to dodge a firestream directed at her faster than a human would be able to. There's a distinct sound compared to the musket fire of her own firearm being shot, with a male voice crying out in pain.

One louder gunshot rings out, with the third one dropping dead. Springfield reloads her gun as stands back up, moving to check each of the bodies and putting a bullet in each of their heads as if to make sure they're dead. We're still not sure of the extent of magic, so it's best to be sure.

"All clear over here."

"Sara, check on Spectre!" I say, turning back towards the musketeers who are still in cover and are now checking on their clearly dead comrade. "Get to the rally point. Take her with you."

"Sir… what about you?"

I glance back over at Spectre, who's being helped up by Springfield as apparently she didn't quite stick the landing due to her leg. "I've got to help PPK out. Take the hallways, use them as cover. Sara!"

"Sir?!"

"Designate someone the acting leader of Red Squad, I'm taking you under my direct command."

"Got it! Michelle, you're in charge! Get everyone to safety!"

"Y-yes, ma'am!"

"Stay safe out there." I say, jogging over to Springfield and Spectre. "Spectre, report."

"Eight shots used in that burst, sir. Down to seven in my current magazine."

"Alright. Musket, and open a channel to PPK." I say, holding it back towards her. Spectre accepts it before also nodding, saying I'm online. "PPK, report."

"_Still pinned down, only one of them is left up. The bleeding one is unconscious, likely she'll be dead if you aren't here soon."_

"Copy. Spectre, Springfield, double time. We're getting them out of there. Springfield, get to a vantage point, I want you providing overwatch and to rain down on them. Get somewhere defensible where you can dodge fireballs and whatnot."

"Understood, sir."

"Spectre, you're with me. We'll continue to snake our way through and free Spectre up. Springfield, when you get up, look for the rally point and let me know what the situation is."

"Will do as well, sir."

"Alright, let's move out. We can still turn the tide."

We quickly move towards our respective objectives, with Springfield getting up to the ramparts of the school and using them to provide cover to us whenever we're engaged by extra fire mages that are seeking out musketeer squads that are pinned down, probably. We've killed three and injured several others who retreated, but no definitive kill count yet.

Fortunately, Springfield's ability to rain fire down, along with her having zero enemy pressure as no one else is up on the ramparts, makes it easy for her to provide cover.

By the time we reach the area that has PPK, I confirm at least six additional fire mage kills. Damn, they must really have wanted this place, huh?

"PPK, we are in position." I say as Spectre and I reach the general, taking shelter behind some pillars that formed a hallway that looked into the courtyard from the east. "Springfield, status?"

"_I have overwatch over the courtyard, ready to open fire on your mark."_

"Copy that." I then nod to Spectre, who nods back. "Start with the ones closest to PPK. PPK, we're going to make an opening. Authorizing use of your weapon, but try not to go too crazy."

"_I'll use four shots at most, then."_

"Use more if you have to, but that's a good limit. Springfield, we will move on your shot. Spectre, ready up."

"_Understood, Commander. I have the first tar—I see an additional three coming in on our position, though."_

"Where?" I ask, glancing behind us to make sure we aren't about to get snuck up on.

"_From the west side. What do you want me to do?"_

"Change of plans. Spectre, PPK, on Springfield's mark I want you dealing with the short range ones. Springfield, take out the ones in the back before they can become a threat."

"_Copy that, sir."_

"_Of course, sir~"_

"Alright, Springfield. On your shot."

I exhale before preparing my own musket, peeking out around the corner. Alright… here we go.

Springfield's shot from the top echoes loud and clear, with Spectre dashing out. I open fire before ducking back behind my pillar to reload.

As I come out again to take another shot, I see that one of the four pinning PPK down is already dead, with Spectre quickly stepping to the side to avoid a fire stream from another one. PPK fires a shot right to the chest of the caster, who stumbles around as his veers off course, right into the ground as he doubles over from pain. This gives Spectre the time to leap in and tackle the mage, where he's quickly taken out.

It's times like this I'm thoroughly reminded of the difference in potential between T-Dolls and humans. A human tackling another human isn't instantly fatal, and there are special ways to kill someone quickly as a human, even in hand to hand. However, ways that would just hurt between humans are amplified with T-Dolls, because of their construction.

Simply put, a fist made of metal is going to hurt a lot more than a fist made of flesh. It's going to hit a hell of a lot harder.

Shots continue to rain in from above as Springfield fires from the top, taking out the two others that were advancing on our position. Fortunately, PPK can make up for Spectre's reduced agility with her leg, as the former of the two easily darts around attacks, misleading the enemy and dismantling their defenses with close quarters combat, all leading up to creating an opening for a fatal shot from her pistol.

"All four down!" Spectre announces as the sound of her weapon firing comes to a close. The last of her magazine, if I was counting correctly, was used in quickly protecting PPK from the last mage capitalizing on her focus on the mage she was killing. "...sorry, Commander."

I emerge from my hiding spot, surveying the area before glancing at the last surviving musketeer. "It's fine, I care more that everyone comes home. Spectre, PPK, help her get them over to the rally point."

"Sir?"

I turn to the last surviving of PPK's squad. "Where's the captain?"

"Her last reported position was the eastern entrance, sir."

"Thank you. Spectre, PPK, go with her. Hold the line at the rally point, keep me updated."

"Are you sure, sir?"

I lean over to Spectre while handing her musket back and whisper so the musketeer can't hear me while she works out who's carrying who. "Springfield, I need you down here, ASAP. We're going after the captain and it looks like the walls are taken out ahead, so we're sticking to the ground."

"_Copy, sir. On my way down."_

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Spectre asks as I step away. "Wouldn't it be better that we stay with you so you can have more firepower?"

"I need someone to reinforce the rally point. Spectre, PPK, you two have free reign over your weapons now. Do whatever it takes to keep as many of them alive as possible."

"Understood, sir."

"Don't worry, Commander. They'll be alive, trust us~"

I nod to Spectre and PPK as Springfield arrives, likely having found a staircase down she could quickly take to reach us.

"Sir?"

"Let's go. Keep us posted if you run into any issues."

"Yes, sir!" Both of them shout before heading over with the last musketeer.

"Thirteen total down so far based on what kills I think we have…" I mumble as Springfield and I start moving to the eastern entrance of the school. "We're about halfway, but we don't have our own casualty count."

"Most of the kills were from the T-Dolls. I'm glad we found them."

"Same here. We might've lost this one, otherwise." I hold a hand up, signalling for us to stop. Springfield and I then move behind some debris to glance into the courtyard.

It's a fierce duel going on. Professor Colbert…? Yes, it has to be him. That bald head and shepherd-like staff. It has to be him, engaged in a duel with another fire mage, the two constantly circling around each other as they hurl spells back and forth.

However, almost right behind him is Agnes, performing incredible feats of agility and dexterity with a flurry of acrobatics to avoid being cornered as she fights off three fire mages, even managing to reload in the air. However, on closer look, she must have been fighting more, because I can confirm at least two dead bodies near her that aren't musketeers.

"Good God, she's terrifying." I mumble to myself. It wouldn't surprise me if Agnes was actually a T-Doll at this point.

"She's a driven woman."

"Don't need to tell me that twice."

"What's the plan, Commander?"

"It's dangerous to shoot into the crossfire of the mage battle. We should get a vantage point, if one still existed." I mumble, pointing to the collapsed walls. Again, I was told they were supposed to be resistant to damage, but I suppose we didn't account for what exactly that _meant_, nor do we have an objective measure of how "resistant" it was and what "damage" meant.

"Should I utilize my special firing protocol, sir?"

"Maybe. However, it looks like this mage is focused on Colbert." I say, noting his features that are visible in the firefight. It's exactly as the figure that Colbert inquired about is described. White hair, a scar over his eye and an eyepatch over his supposedly nonfunctioning eye. "If we get in the way, we might attract attention to ourselves."

"Would that not give the professor an opening?"

"It would, but something tells me he wouldn't see the situation as 'defeat the enemy' but 'save the others'. Our attempted distraction would cause him to enter a senseless sacrifice" I mutter back. "We'll intervene if he gets trapped. As for Agnes… while she's in range, I'd prefer to have a better sightline. We could try to sneak through the courtyard, but being sighted by that mage Professor Colbert is dueling might have adverse effects."

I look around the courtyard and the collapsed wall, trying to find a way through. Think, think… alright, we're forced into a reactionary position here.

"Springfield."

"Sir?"

"Prepare your normal weapon. Stay low to the ground and see if you can't find a place with better sightlines to Agnes. If Agnes is in trouble, I want you to open fire. Keep your special firing protocol at the ready."

I see Springfield glance around the immediate area and nod as she goes prone to stay low to the ground as she moves outside our cover. She goes a few feet away before turning to me and flashing a thumbs up signal. I nod in return and peek out to observe the ongoing battle.

"So, Flame Snake, how does it feel?!"

Colbert is silent to the gruff, baritone voice that is practically dripping with resentment.

"You've weakened throughout all these years. Look at you!"

The roaring flames make it hard to hear any reply, but I can only assume that the insults continue.

"Whatever happened to the ruthless inquisitor?"

"He's gone."

Inquisitor…?

"Baaahahaha! You fool! Did you think you'd be rid of your past just by hiding from it?" I can hear Colbert grunt as he deflects another fire stream, careful to ensure it does not clip Agnes as he does so. "You can't hide from them, Fire Snake. I know it still calls to you every day!"

I close my eyes for a second, trying to put the pieces together.

"Yes, let me see it, Fire Snake! I want to see the one who blinded me, who took away my eyesight! I want to see the one who ruthlessly cut down the women and the children in the name of the Founder!"

Wait, if he took away his eyesight, then how is he…!

"Or I'll kill the ones hiding off to the side!"

"Commander!"

I let out a cry as Springfield abandons her weapon and tackles me in order to shield me. The impact is a lot more than what I was expecting due to her construction, but she was probably particular not to do too much damage.

However, I felt absolutely no scorching, no flames cooking me alive. There wasn't even a cry from Springfield if she took the blast for me.

"You wish to see it? Very well."

I glance past Springfield and see protecting us is a massive serpent of flame, which finishes absorbing a stream of fire sent our way.

"My only mistake has been thinking there was a way to save you, Melvin. I had hoped you would be able to see the world as I did."

The venom in Professor Colbert's words is truly something to behold.

"It is true, that there is always part of me that wishes to use force to solve the issue. But the 'me' that burned down countless villages is not the me that stands here today. It matters little if I blinded you that night, because as far as I can tell, you were always blind to the truth."

The serpent of flame quickly darts around the attacker, where an extended cry of pain rings out.

"This… how are you…?!"

"Forgive me, Melvin. I had hoped that I could save more than one soul that night, but I'll just have to settle for less. Goodbye… old friend."

"Good God…" I mumble as Springfield slowly gets off of me, then giving me a hand to pull me up as the pained cries stop, but only with a final swearing of revenge before the man in the flames is reduced to nothing but ashes, if there are any even remaining.

"As much as I abhor violence, there was a strange satisfaction in that." I hear Colbert mutter he approaches us. "Are you okay?"

"Only thanks to you." I say, Springfield going for her weapon. "I assume this is why you asked about me being religious?"

"You could say that I haven't seen eye to eye with the Church of Brimir for some time."

"What an understatement." I mutter, causing him to chuckle. "Sp—Sara, check in with the others."

That was close.

"Yes, sir."

She walks off to the side, presumably to conceal herself from Colbert. I note that there are no additional fire streams or gunshots being heard, so I glance over to check on Agnes—

"I found you."

—only to find her pointing her gun right at Colbert's head.

"Agnes—!"

"You don't know how long I've waited for this."

"It was you, wasn't it?" Colbert asks, closing his eyes before throwing his staff away. "The sole survivor of D'Angleterre. The one person I was able to save from there."

"How fitting that it was tonight that I finally have this chance. You'll finally pay for burning down my village."

"Agnes!" I say with a bit more force to it. I see her recoil slightly, but her resolve keeps her still.

"Ah, Commander. I'm sorry you had to witness this. I'd have preferred to have chalked it up to a kill in the crossfire. Don't worry. Do with me as you will, tell the princess, even. But I want this. No, I _need_ this."

"Don't do something you're going to regret, Agnes."

"It's fine, Commander." I hear Colbert say as he nods. "I've mentally prepared for this, after all. This is a bit of a dream for me too, after all."

"You idiot, you can't just give up on life like that!" I hiss back.

"Don't get in my way, Commander."

"Then why haven't you shot him?"

"Because I have so much more to say to him. Please look the other way if something like this disturbs you, Commander. Besides, you have no right to interfere. This is between the one who murdered that village and the one who will avenge it, you dog of the church."

"If you could, at least properly address me. I am no longer their puppet."

"Quiet."

My voice dies in my throat as Agnes kicks Colbert right in the knee, forcing him to kneel down. She then places the barrel of the gun right on his forehead, so she can look into his eyes for the kill.

"Don't do it, Agnes."

"I can assure you, Commander, that I'm a faster draw than you." Agnes says, likely catching my right hand twitching in her peripheral vision. "You may be an excellent tactical mastermind, but your actual combat skill is lacking, isn't it?"

"Please do not threaten the Commander, Captain."

A new voice. Springfield enters from the side, her normal gun pointed at Agnes.

"Don't worry about the crossfire, Commander."

I nod at this as Agnes glares at me.

"So there was something more to you than met the eye, huh? Ahh, it seems the musketeers will be in capable hands, then."

"You're truly fine with this, aren't you? What about the princess?"

I catch a flash of hesitation in Agnes' eye this time.

"You and I are different people, Agnes. I can't be whatever you are to her."

"Your skills in observation are as sharp as ever. Next you'll tell me the grass is green."

"Do you really mean to abandon her over revenge? Besides, this isn't the same man who slaughtered your village."

I see Colbert's posture lapse slightly, with Agnes' tension in her arm shooting up at his movement. Ah, I see how it is, Colbert. You both want and don't want to be the same person. You want to believe that you've changed, that you're no longer the butcher you once were, yet you still want the guilt of being that person. How foolish. You cannot have both, if you want to claim that one is dead.

Yet, of anyone here tonight, I have the least right to criticize this man kneeling before us, awaiting the execution from Agnes.

"If you want to kill him for it, then know you'll be nothing better."

"Hundreds died by his hand. What's one life in comparison to that?"

"An innocent life is still an innocent life. But remember that you're not the only one bearing that stain. After all, if the princess were to find out about it, she would have no choice but to denounce you. But even so, there would be plenty using it as ammunition against her."

I pause, giving Agnes the time to think it over.

So please, just put—

"Shut up, get out of my head, I'm doing this now!"

—a single shot echoes throughout the once silent night.

* * *

**So I managed to proofread this in time due to the collab event taking me to brown town as I'm a bit sick and tired of getting boned by 26k attack power units at night. Fun times. Regardless, tried writing a more "in the zone" battle scene. Figured I would make it more that the commander played a secondary role in combat, with Spectre, Springfield, and PPK clearly doing the heavy lifting. I also somewhat tuned up the magic to be a bit more potent since FoZ is a bit loose when it comes to magic, and it makes it so there's actually some risk involved.**

**With that, I don't think there's too much to say for this chapter. Battle scenes still exactly aren't my forte, so I tried to convey what was going on with the narration based on Oliver's perspective. I feel like once we reach a point though, that you know, he has access to that communication tech that was being researched and other things, that battle scenes will become much more fluid. In a sense that it's less about "I shoot here, duck here" and more we just get to see Oliver's thought process as the T-Dolls carry out their mission. I mostly just used this as a characterizing chapter, regarding how Oliver treats his T-Dolls and the musketeers.**

**The ending sequence comes a bit out of nowhere if you're not familiar with FoZ, but if you are, you knew it was probably coming. I thought that was fine, considering how Oliver himself is an outsider and isn't very familiar with things, so he's seeing it happen for the first time like those who aren't in the know about FoZ. Thus, he's reacting to an entirely surprising situation and attempting to defuse it despite not knowing the full story. Next chapter should be a little less tense, but yeah, tried what I could for a battle chapter. I don't think I'll have too many of these, though, since it conflicts with what Oliver's supposed to be. I kind of wanted it as a "quick thinking" segment, but oh well. We'll see if it turned out well to you guys.**

**Also you guys have brought up other T-Dolls coming in. As much as I'd like to put in more, I'm trying to pace/limit the ones I bring in. I don't want to have too many, as I'd like to be able to have some time to focus on the ones I do have, you know? I'm thinking like, five or six tops. Any more and it's going to be a challenge to juggle them all, especially since Agnes kind of fills the slot as another T-Doll. Anyways, I've taken into account everyone else's feedback, so hopefully future chapters will improve on things I missed such as Oliver being kind of distant about Saito. This chapter and the last one were kind of written in bulk (as in, this chapter was mostly written before the last one was posted), so if there seems to be something I glossed over, that might be it, as trying to restructure an entire chapter can be kind of tricky. Anyways, see you all next time.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: **Rebirth

* * *

"Dammit…!"

I let out an exhale as Colbert is still alive after the gunshot, with Agnes having been unable to carry through with it, changing her aim to empty itself into the ground at the last second.

Agnes drops her gun, sinking to her knees in front of Colbert. I see him reach out to her, but I step in and grab his wrist, shaking my head.

"I'm sorry, but it's time for you to leave." I say to Colbert, mostly to give the implication I'm with Agnes on this one. I understand the wish to reach out to her, but the last thing Agnes needs right now is kindness from Colbert.

"But…"

"Sara."

I see her jolt a bit at the sudden force in my voice, but she nods, tugging away Colbert.

"Also sir, PPK and Spectre reported everyone is at the rally point, all hostiles are either dead or have pulled away. Depending on how many Captain Agnes got, that may be all of them."

"Copy that. Monitor the situation." I say as I take a seat next to Agnes.

We sit in silence until the two of them are gone.

"...you didn't tell her to shoot."

"I had faith in you, but you caught me off guard when you decided to take the shot all of a sudden."

"I thought that… if I didn't take it then, I might never be able to bring myself to do it ever again." She mumbles, looking down at the ground.

"Well, it's good you didn't." I say, reaching over and patting her on the back. "Besides, revenge is a pretty crappy reason to live, anyways. The instant you killed him, you would've become empty."

"You sound like you have experience."

"Ahhh, well, just a bit."

"So what now?"

"Hm?"

"What now? I've waited for this day for so long, but now I've thrown it all away." Agnes mumbles, getting off of her knees, now sitting back and curling up. While she's always presented a calm, collected, and stoic front, everything that's been held back all these years must be finally bubbling forward.

"On the contrary, you made sure you didn't throw everything you had away." I glance back as Agnes glares at me. "If you had taken the shot, you would've lost your place next to the princess, the opinion of the musketeers, and your reason for living, all at once. You would have had nothing."

"In the end, isn't that all we have?"

"From dust to dust, perhaps, but in the meantime we are alive, we have many things. Were you planning on taking your own life after taking his?"

"I don't think I really had a plan afterwards." Agnes says with a shrug. "As long as he was dead… that was enough."

"Ah, I see."

Agnes clumps up some grass in her hands and tosses it to the side in frustration. "So, back to the question. What now?"

"A lot of things, really. For one, realizing why you didn't take the shot."

"Don't you already know that?" Agnes mutters, looking off to the side.

"It's good to admit it. Not to me, but to yourself."

I hear her quietly grumble before sinking her head down between her knees.

"It's alright. You don't have to do it tonight. Just work towards it, little by little, until you can wear it with pride."

"Sounds like I'm not the first person to hear this."

"You could say it was said to me, so yes, you're not the first person to hear it."

I hear her snort. "So in the end, all you're doing is giving me someone else's words?"

"If I truly believe in them, is that not enough?"

"I suppose so."

"Ha. Well, how about you tell me what this is all about, then? I've managed to put everything together so far, but I'd like to hear your side of the story."

"Is that going to help?" She asks, giving me another pointed look.

"It might. Have you told anyone else before?"

"Not in particular."

"So that's a no." I say back flatly.

"They say it's rude to read that deeply into people's statements."

"Sorry."

"It's fine." I hear Agnes inhale, then sigh. "I suppose I'd have to tell you soon, anyways. It has to deal with my firearms. But in exchange, you have to come clean with me."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you have a lot of questions after tonight."

It was mostly as I thought, with just a few changes here and there. But it seems that a T-Doll must have made her way here, a while ago. Judging by the "legendary figure" in her village, it might have been a Lee Enfield T-Doll, based on the appearance. Regardless, while Enfield could not communicate with them, she could at least impart basic concepts on them.

And by 'basic concepts', the art of gunsmithing. Agnes admitted their early ones were very crude, but as they progress from generation to generation, they slowly started making tools that were better. I was concerned with how old her village was, considering that she mentioned generations, until I realized that based on what Henrietta mentioned about her marriage, being married and having a child at a younger age would allow for a quicker generational passage.

I make a mental note to see if one day, if it's possible, to have Agnes take us there. I'd like to recover Enfield even if it's likely she's no longer operational. The data she has might be valuable to us regardless, if her storage hasn't degraded by now. I'd also like to understand why Enfield helped them, though I can understand why. A desire to protect the people there, and a realization that she could not defend them against other humans who wanted to harm the innocents. Perhaps she realized some kind of loophole that allowed her to arm the citizenry.

Of course, she couldn't jump straight to her weapon. They probably didn't have the tech to make that level of precision, so she started them off further back. It wouldn't be too difficult to do the number crunching for more basic weapons, and from there, they evolved throughout the generations, just as Agnes mentioned. And because it was their craft, their livelihood, they experimented more rather than just accepting it as it was, perhaps.

Her village was also rather out of the way, too. They didn't have a lot of farmland, but the guns made them _very_ good at hunting. Of course, word would spread about their village every now and then. The one rule of course, being that their tech would never leave. Their town was that tight knit. And of course, it was their one advantage against bandits and thieves as well. If it spread out of the town, others might take it and use it against them.

Regardless, the church would come knocking one day. They wanted that tech. They wanted it bad.

So much so that when they refused to capitulate, their village was deemed touched by the plague. Even if it really wasn't.

The rest, as they say, is history. I imagine that due to a lack of a newspaper, such a story would have never been publicized and other than Agnes and Colbert, likely the only two living members with firsthand knowledge of the incident, there would be no one else to back them up. Ultimately, Agnes and her village would never get the justice they deserved.

Additionally, judging by what Professor Colbert said, it seems he was on that fateful squad that set fire to the village. However, he must have had a change of heart, and decided to go and save someone. That someone would be Agnes, the only survivor of D'Angleterre. She alone would carry the secrets of their craft. Secrets that she still keeps today.

"I'm surprised you're telling me that part."

"You're familiar with those advanced guns that those girls have. I imagine you probably already know more." Agnes says with a shrug.

"Well, not so much the actual art of making them, but yes." I say, standing up and dusting myself off. "Then, let's go."

"Eh?"

I extend my hand to her to help her up. "The threat is over, Captain. You should go and greet your soldiers. After all, you didn't abandon them just now. Therefore, you must live. Live for them, live for the princess, and live for your duty."

"Because that's all I have left?"

"Of course not." I say, offering a smile as I see the morning light start to filtering in behind me. "It's because that's what you have now, while you wait for more things to live for."

Agnes' grip is fairly strong as she lifts herself up, grasping my forearm.

"I wish you'd arrived a lot sooner. The princess could've used a figure like you in her life, back when her father died."

"I've been told I have a knack for always being too late to prevent the day from needing to be saved, but never too late to save it."

Agnes snorts at this, turning away as she lets go of my hand. "...you aren't half bad, Oliver. I'll… take your words into account. But I can't let go of my revenge so easily. It's something _fundamental_ to me."

"That's fine." I say, stepping beside her as we walk to the rally point. "Burn all you want for revenge. I'll just have to be there for you to remind you of what else you have in your life before you pull the trigger."

"And if you're not there like tonight?"

"Then I'll hope that you remember what I've said to you when the gun is in your hands and your finger is on the trigger."

"You have a lot of faith, don't you?"

"I'm not exactly a frontline fighter, Agnes. Once I give the commands, faith is all I have. Faith, in all of them."

Before Agnes can respond, we come up to the rally point, where as soon as we come into sight, all of the remaining musketeers, injured or not, snap to a salute even if some of them can't stand. Off to the side, Springfield, PPK, and Spectre also follow suit.

"Welcome back, Captain. Welcome back, Commander."

I quietly nod, looking at Agnes.

"Thank you. How is everyone?" Agnes asks, already going back to her usual state. However, something I notice as she steps forward is there seems to be a significant lightness in her step...

* * *

I hear from Agnes, after she got to work, listening to the reports. Eighteen musketeers dead. Another seven injured to where they'll need to be removed from active duty. In short, we're about one-fourth in strength than we were at the start, considering how we only had thirty two musketeers, plus Agnes. That leaves us seven musketeers, and with Agnes heading one squad, brings us up to two squads of four if we try to match up what we had before.

However…

"Agnes, a word." I say about an hour into the reports. I gesture for the T-Dolls to come with us as Agnes gets up from her seat and walks with all of us to an empty classroom.

"I suppose this is your explanation?"

"Mhm. You wanted the truth, so I'll give it to you."

"I suppose it has to do with Sara's little stunt earlier?" Agnes asks as I close the door behind us.

"Er, it's Springfield now, ma'am." Springfield answers with a bit of an embarrassed smile.

Before Agnes can say anything, I give a nod to them. "Alright girls, it's time to introduce yourselves. I'll go first. Agnes, you already know my name and that I commanded infantry units. These girls, who you have viewed as 'advanced golems' of sorts, were the ones I commanded. They are indeed from another world, much like me, and our technology far outstrips yours."

Agnes nods, having already heard this.

"We worked for a mercenary group, essentially."

"Hold on." Agnes says, holding up a finger. "Let me see if I can figure out the rest based on what 'Sara' suggested to me. It was called G and K Military. Personnel operating within them were referred to as T-Dolls."

Springfield gives another sheepish smile at that.

"Almost, Agnes. We typically just called the company Griffin for short, a mercenary company. However, not all personnel weren't called T-Dolls, that would be the girls who were fighting here. There were others in their employ, like commanders such as myself or people like logistics officers." I say, gesturing to the three gathered with us. "Short for Tactical Doll, as you likely heard from Springfield or Sara."

"So you're saying you've commanded them before?"

I shake my head 'no'. "I've never commanded these individual ones before. They're produced commercially, so you could have multiple of them, if you so chose. Most of them weren't made for military purposes, though. They were made to fill in the gaps of human labor."

"I see…"

"And with that—girls, introduce yourselves again and your specialties. PPK, sound off."

The dress wearing, handgun wielding girl steps forward, saluting. "Full name Walther Polizeipistole Kriminalmodell, though the Commander has the privilege to call me PPK~ I work best in close range to support my fellow T-Dolls in the heat of combat."

"Understood, Walther Pol—"

"You can just call her PPK." I say, cutting in. PPK gives a chilling smile as she steps back, Spectre now stepping forth.

"Full name, Spectre M4!" Spectre says, snapping to a salute. "My specialties are drawing and evading enemy fire. Or at least, they were before my injury."

"She's still faster than humans." I say, making a mental note to catch Spectre's thoughts later. "They all are."

"Though, what kind of enemy were they fighting? If a private group for hire had access to them, I'm sure that you weren't the only ones, or someone else was trying to get a piece of that tech."

I bite my lip before sighing. "They were made to fight something similar to them. The Sangvis Ferri. They're similar in make, but by far in higher numbers. But you know how it is, quantity over quality. Compared to them, the Griffin T-Dolls, well, each of them individually can take on multiple 'advanced golems' of the SF, which is what we call the Sangvis for short."

I decide it's better not to disclose anything about Ringleaders unless it becomes pertinent later. There's no need to get her to doubt in their ability.

"Hmm… I see. I imagined these… 'Sangvis Ferri' were also stronger than humans?"

"They were."

"And that is why you fielded the 'T-Dolls'."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay, I'm starting to get the picture now." Agnes says with a nod. "And that leaves…"

Spectre steps back, matched in time with Springfield who is now properly dressed in her usual T-Doll outfit, who calmly moves to a salute. "M1903 Springfield, Captain Agnes. My specialties are long distance fighting and pinpoint targets."

"M… oh, M1903." Agnes turns her head to me. "I didn't know that we had a goddess with us."

"A goddess?" Springfield asks, clearly confused.

Unfortunately, Agnes manages to get her next sentence out before I can explain.

"Yes. Oliver had quite a smile on his face when he saw the inscription on his gun. Ah, what did you say, Oliver? M1903 is 'A goddess of victory who is said to always be walking with me'?"

I quietly sink my face into my left hand, deciding not to meet Springfield's gaze. Goddammit, I should've kept my mouth shut.

In the background, I can hear Spectre (poorly) trying to contain her laughter and a "My, my, my" from PPK. It makes me glad that Springfield isn't a WA2K T-Doll, I heard those have very prickly personalities and I'm sure I would've earned a flustered berating from one right about now.

"Er, Captain Agnes, I am not a goddess, but I am humbled that the Commander thinks so highly of me." I hear after a period of silence from Springfield, who is unable to meet my gaze. "I will do my best to deliver you all to victory."

"Mm. Thank you." Agnes says with a nod. "So, any other things I should know?"

"We're very limited on ammunition, that's the biggest thing. We don't use your musket ammo, as you might think, and producing them is likely out of your league at the moment." I say, bringing up the biggest problem.

"Ah… so really, what we're counting the most on is their ability to best humans in physical aspects."

"Unless we get lucky and for some reason, whatever brought us all here sees fit to give us a box full of ammo. Until then, I'll have them train with the muskets you have."

"Seems fair. Though... " I can see the slight pain in her eyes that comes with her next question. "Would you say that they're enough to replace the fallen?"

If they had been fully stocked and repaired, that question would've been an easy 'yes'. Obviously, they could've easily defeated eighteen humans in the blink of an eye. But for now…? Yes, I still have faith in them.

"They'll exceed expectations, Agnes. I believe they'll be enough."

"Hmm…" I see her close her eyes, then nod again. "Commander, I… well, let me be frank. Are you the one who prompted Sara, well, Springfield, to give the idea of that elite squadron within the Royal Musketeers?"

"Yes. To be honest, the intent was for it to be a signal to other T-Dolls who somehow found their way here to know they weren't alone." I say, with Agnes nodding again.

"Then I'd like to take you up on your idea. It seems we're down in numbers, anyways. At this point, we basically are just an elite squadron. I'll leave the others to defend the princess as a last line of defense and to train any additional musketeers I can get my hands on."

"You won't join them?"

"I'll be on the team, if you don't mind. While I wish I could be in both places, I think I'd do a lot more good on the field."

I can't doubt her abilities, of course. I saw them first hand.

"Any particular reason?"

"I do a better job actually on the field than sitting back and training recruits. Second, you need someone familiar with Halkeginia on your team." She says, crossing her arms.

"I can't argue with that." I mumble with a shrug. "Well, you're in the lead. I'll go with it."

"Thank you, Commander."

"Then, as of this point on—" I pause, looking at Agnes. "Though, perhaps we ought to rechristen you."

I see Springfield's eyes light up, along with Spectre giving a small scoff and PPK rolling her eyes as Agnes just looks at me with a confused expression.

"Everyone on the squad is called by their weapon."

"Ah, I see. Well, I don't know what she was called, though. No one did, she didn't speak our language."

"Based on your description of her and her weapon, though, I believe I know. Her name is Lee Enfield, a rifle T-Doll. She has a similar role to Springfield, you could say."

"Lee Enfield…" Agnes whispers back to herself, nodding.

"When serving on the GK Team as a Tactical Doll, Captain Agnes, we will refer to you as Enfield. Is that fine with you?"

I see her close her eyes, thinking. Accepting a new name is a big development, after all. It's something that defines you. In fact, I remember hearing about it from a colleague that this is one step in how cults can really prevent people from escape. Getting a new name from them is like saying you belong to them. Shedding your previous identity, and all that.

Granted, this isn't to that level, but accepting a new name might be hard for her. 'Agnes' is the girl who survived the burning of D'Angleterre. And I've learned that it's not something she's going to let go of so easily.

However, Enfield is tied to her village. Perhaps...

"...Very well, then. I'll accept it, as referring to me strictly on the GK Team. I'll let the princess know of this new development tonight. Not in full, obviously. I'd prefer to tell her in person where it won't be intercepted."

"Understandable."

"We'll likely depart in a few days, or at least I will, and some of the other musketeers. I'll entrust the school to you until then, but I doubt there'll be a second attack."

I nod as Agnes gets up. "Alright. Let me know how it goes."

* * *

Later that day, after dinner, I called the T-Dolls I found into a room with me, where I had them all sit down. This was a conversation that was long coming, anyways, and it should be taken care of now rather than later.

"Whatever do you need, Commander?" PPK asks as Springfield closes the door behind all of us.

"Just… gotta get something off my mind."

"Do you think you won't be able to hold back with Captain Agnes? Tut, tut~"

"PPK, quit fooling around. The Commander looks serious." Spectre mumbles, with PPK sighing at her interrupted fun. I have been told they can be a handful sometimes. "What is it, Commander? I assume this involves us, rather than the musketeers."

"It does. Well, sit down." I pause, waiting for them to do so. "It revolves around the mission of the T-Dolls. You were meant to safeguard humanity."

"Yes, sir, that is our mission." Spectre replies, nodding.

"Of course, with Anti-Human protocols, you've been allowed to fight here. Without those, you'd burn out your minds trying to otherwise, so… I just… I'm not a therapist, all of you, but I feel as if it's the _right_ thing to do to tell you all that… if you ever feel uncomfortable fighting humans, those you were sworn to protect, I will not hold it against you if you do not wish to fight a battle and I swear upon it now I will never order you to fire upon humans you do not want to fight."

"Commander."

I look up, hearing Springfield's voice.

"I thank you for your concern, but I wholeheartedly believe in you from what I have seen so far from you. I do not think you will lead us astray."

"Hmm. But Commander, I have a question."

"Go ahead, PPK?"

"Are we not weapons for you to deploy?"

"You are not weapons."

I see a slight recoil from each of them. I likely said it with a bit more force than I intended.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to come off as so harsh." I say, sighing and leaning back in my seat. "I dislike that, is all. I didn't like treating the T-Dolls under my command as weapons. They weren't disposable nor were they replaceable. That holds doubly so here, because there will never be a way to recover you should you buy your farm out there."

"Buy… our farm?" Spectre asks.

"It's a euphemism for 'dying'." I explain. "As a way to never say that someone died. Has its origins elsewhere, but I guess that's why they use it now. Regardless, that's how I do things, alright? Call me sentimental or call me a fool, I don't really care. It's how I run my ship."

"Yes, sir." All three of them respond.

"But just keep it in mind, alright? It's one thing to be fighting the SF, it's another to fight humans."

"Did you ever fight humans yourself, sir?" Spectre asks, which of course was the likely question.

"In war? No, I was never really boots on the ground. But I've been in a few scrapes before."

"I see…"

"Then, sir." Springfield says, coming up after Spectre trails off.

"Yes, Springfield?"

"Um… ah, sorry, I lost my train of thought."

"Alright. Well, unless you have anything else to bring up, that is all for you, PPK and Springfield. Spectre, I want to have another small chat."

"Sir."

PPK and Springfield both get up, salute, and leave the room. I wait until the door clicks closed before speaking.

"Sir?"

"I just wanted to speak to you about your leg."

I see Spectre's shoulder's slump as I move seats next to her.

"What's there to say, sir?"

"Whatever's on your mind, Spectre. But I want you to know that you're not usele—"

I flinch, as Spectre almost lashes out but catches her hand in time. There's a look of horror in her eyes as I carefully bring my hand up to grasp hers.

"I don't, I, I'm so-sorry, sir, I—" She stammers out, clearly in shock of what she nearly just did.

"It was the Anti-Human protocols, right?"

"Ye… yes, I believe so, sir. Normally I would have been preventing from taking such an action no matter how frustrated or angered I was at your comment, but…"

"It's fine. It's part of the responsibility you're going to have to bear." I say, bringing her hand down. "If you were a normal coworker of mine, I'd say slap me when you felt like it, but unfortunately I don't think I can take a steel punch and live. However, feel free to criticize me with however harsh words you want to use."

"That's not fair, Commander." I hear her mutter as I let go of her hand. "When you ask for it like that, no one would actually go through with it."

"Sorry. However, please know that I truly mean it." I say, looking into her eyes. "You are not useless to me, Spectre. Despite your injury, you turned the tide. You're still willing to fight. That's something I can respect and appreciate. However, I do not respect you thinking you are disposable. Whatever your commander before may have told you, I want you to ignore it. Under me, in these current circumstances, you are not scrappable nor are you disposable. With any luck we'll discover some kind of repair facility. If you, PPK, Springfield, and apparently an Enfield all stumbled into here, it's not like it's unlikely. So I just want you to have a bit of faith in me."

"Un… Understood, sir."

"Alright. That's all I have to say. I don't expect you to believe me right away, but it's how it goes." I say, getting up from my seat. "Do you have anything else to say to me?"

"No, sir. Except… I'll think about it."

"That's all I'm asking. If you'll excuse me."

I find PPK and Springfield waiting outside, but it seems they weren't having their ears pressed to the door. "PPK."

"Sir." She says back, none of her usual sadistic personality shining through.

"Go be with Spectre. I don't know what the extent of your relationship is, but you were partners before arriving here, or at least navigating this world before you met us. She could use you."

"Yes, sir."

PPK snaps a salute before heading in, closing the door behind her.

"Are you okay, Commander?" Springfield asks, following me as we walk along the hallways.

"I just don't like seeing people in that state."

"Spectre isn't a 'person', though."

"Not to me." I say back, managing to reign in how forcefully I say it.

"I know. And that's something I appreciate, Commander." I glance to the side and find in my peripheral vision, a small smile from Springfield. "I have one question, though."

"Shoot."

"It had to deal with before, what I wanted to ask…"

"Alright, go for it."

"Are you going to be okay commanding us to fight? You said it yourself, didn't you? That we might have trouble fighting the humans we were supposed to protect. But what about you, Commander?"

"Well, I've done it before, right?"

"One was against a group of malicious foreign actors. One was against aggressors whom you responded to in kind, considering that they could not be reasoned with."

I get what she's trying to say. These were special cases. They were almost black and white cases. However, we'd be going up against a nation's army soon. That was a grab bag of people. Sure, you had those that couldn't be reasoned with, but there would be just as many people who were there because they wanted to protect their homeland. Maybe they really did believe in the message of Reconquista. All sorts of reasons. It wouldn't be as clear cut.

It wasn't like the SF, a faceless horde of robots, save for the Ringleaders who looked human yet behaved so _in_humane. These would be… different. Very, very different.

"I'll be fine, Springfield."

"If you insist, sir. But, with all due respect… I am here for you. We all are."

"I'll keep it in mind."

With that, we head off to go check on the rest of the school. I'll be wanting to talk to Colbert before we depart, anyways.

But, Springfield's words remain on my mind. I really did take on a bigger job than I thought it was, huh… telling Henrietta I was a commander, but not saying it wasn't the traditional sense. Commanding others to take potentially ordinary human life, huh… guess that's something I'm going to have to think about.

* * *

**Aaaaand end.**

**Sorry for the slight 1 day schedule slip. I had a tabletop game last night, which is why I missed it.**

**Lots of talking this chapter, mostly just fallout from before. I liked the idea of Agnes not being entirely over her revenge, but Oliver just saying he'll be there to let her down easy. Same with Spectre at the end of the chapter. Mostly it was just there for Oliver to get the ball rolling. You can't exactly talk everyone down right at the start, but at the very least he can plant the seed of doubt/growth in them.**

**Of course, this gets turned on him by Springfield right at the end. I thought it would be an interesting character dilemma for him, in that yes, he's commanding against the SF, but he's in a similar role to the T-Dolls wherein he was protecting people, but now he's going to be faced not with clearly provable bad guys, but just soldiers who might not necessarily even be evil people on the enemy side.**

**Anyways, some slight humor about "M1903" in the middle, along with Agnes joining the team as "Enfield". I figured this was a good way for me to really focus in on them, making them much more of a tight-knit squad.**

**Either way, wow, powered through this in like a week. I was off on vacation last week so I didn't get too much chance to write, so I'm currently writing this author's note after proofreading at like, noon-time whenever this chapter goes up, probably at like, 10pm. Yeah, that close lol. Trying to keep to my schedule, and I thought it was mostly good enough to post.**

**Next time will likely have a lot of talking as well, I think. I'm trying to keep action on the low-side of things, using a model kind of like: Big action scene, fallout, dialogue that builds to the next one, and loop from there, rather than just lots of fighting scenes. I'd like to try to keep entirely within Oliver's point of view as well rather than swapping point of views, which means he won't really be in the thick of things, which kind of lowers the potential for action scenes, but oh well. We'll see how it goes.**

**Slight plug for a friend, someone who damned me to hell-I mean brought me into knowing what Girls Frontline is. He's the author of "A War For Three", which you can find in the GFL FFNet archive. I do enjoy his writing, and meanwhile we're still both chilling out in the latest collab event. 600k power enemies, anyone?**

**Anyways, let me know what you liked, what you didn't like, and what I can improve on. See you all next time!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: **War on the Horizon

* * *

"I hope this isn't a bad time."

"It isn't." Professor Colbert says as I step into his still (somewhat) trashed office. The Academy is still recovering from the attack, but it seems that his office wasn't a direct target.

"You seem a bit upset at me." I say, noticing he doesn't look up at me. "I assume it has to deal with Captain Agnes?"

He looks up at me as I say her name. "I can understand why you didn't want me to talk to her that night, but why keep me away from her even now?"

"I know you probably want to connect with her and I believe that yes, it will help wounds."

"Then _why_—"

"Because she's not ready." I say, cutting in as Colbert narrows his eyes at me. "There will come a day, Professor, when she is ready. But today is not that day. If anything, you'd further confuse her. What she needs now is space. Space and time to think about where she wants to go from here. And if that place she wants to go involves reaching out to you, then I will hope on that day, you take her hand."

There's a kind of dreadful silence that hangs in the air as Professor Colbert simply looks at me, as if trying to analyze my words, my posture, seeing if there's a deception in them.

"As loath as I am to do so, I'll relent. I sense that greater men have tried to cross you and I would not like to share their fate…" He says quietly. "Besides, you likely know her better than I do."

"Thank you. Onto a more, say, lighthearted topic?" I say, deciding to ignore the somewhat backhanded compliment.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to inquire both about your side of the story in regards to the attack on D'Angleterre, but also about this Hiraga Saito you spoke of."

"Hmm, I see. Well, I'm sure you've heard the story from Captain Agnes' point of view, but I suppose if you want to put the puzzle together, I'll tell mine."

The story isn't exactly anything that surprising. Of course, they were told that it was a plagued town. This was routine for them. At this point in time, Colbert was 'The Flame Snake', someone who was once infamous for his fire magic and his… indiscriminate fire, to put it in politically correct terms. However, his unit had been tasked with purging the plague, which dramatically changed his targets.

Perhaps it was the mentality of 'happening to involve noncombatants in the crossfire' versus 'specifically targeting noncombatants'. The first one he could dismiss as 'It is the reality of war', even if it was incredibly distasteful and would cause many people pause. The second is something even the most hardened of commanders would find difficult to sign off on, if I may be so optimistic. History might say otherwise, but I believe with the present day sensibilities, yes, it wouldn't happen again.

Regardless, a back-to-back string of plagued villages that needed torching was rapidly growing the seed of doubt that had been planted in a more youthful Colbert. It ultimately came to a head in D'Angleterre, when Colbert had finally put the pieces together and realized this village was innocent, along with the others.

Something interesting came up, though. Apparently there had existed a record of orders, stored underneath the school in its archives. That copy had been destroyed, though, due to someone going after it. Unfortunately, the perpetrator was killed in the pursuit, so they weren't able to be interrogated.

However, Colbert also said that there would be one additional copy.

It's just that, well, it happens to be stored in the grand archives of Romalia's capital. If I were to want to get it in order to prove Agnes' story and help her get the justice she deserved, it'd be as if I had to lead an army into the Vatican itself back home and storm the archives. But of course, it'd mean making an enemy out of virtually everyone, and also Romalia itself is no slouch in combat.

What a mess, really…

As for Hiraga Saito, he was last being deployed to the front lines. When I inquired about the plane, Colbert told me that Hiraga Saito called it a 'Zero fighter'.

A World War II fighter showing up here… how strange. Regardless, it seemed incredulous that such a young boy would be able to fly one. Colbert was evasive about why that was the case, so I decided to currently chalk it up to 'strange hobbies'. It's not as if the T-Dolls I served with didn't have their own eccentricities.

Besides, as for this Hiraga Saito character, he's not currently under my command and even if he has some kind of special ability to fly planes, I wouldn't want to force him to undergo the stresses of war. To use a child in that manner would put a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Well, I thank you for the information, Professor. I'll keep it all in mind, going forward."

"Please do bring him back. Him and his master, Louise."

"I don't know if I'll be deployed to the front lines, but if I should run into them, I'll endeavor to do so." I say with a nod. "Can you describe this 'Louise'?"

"Louise Valliere, yes. Well, she's quite short and has distinguishable pink hair. They're almost inseparable, er, well, is putting it lightly. She doesn't like to let him out of her sight, lest he get into trouble… or find himself with another woman."

"So she's clingy."

"I was hoping not to use that term. She's also… unable to be honest with herself, I suppose. Lacks a lot of self-confidence, no doubt in part to her inability to properly use normal magic."

"Clarify that."

"Hm?"

"You said 'normal magic'. Therefore, there must exist some kind of 'abnormal magic'." I say, turning to face Colbert. "And more importantly, I find it interesting that you're telling me this, rather than just how to find them."

He turns his head away slightly in shame, like a child being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Likely he did not mean to expose that fact. "They could use you as well. I would like to go with them, but alas, I am a coward who can hardly stomach being close to a battlefield. Even as I make the excuse that a professor cannot abandon his students, it all comes from a place of cowardice."

"Do not call yourself a coward. It takes courage to admit one's faults and shortcomings." I say, his head turning back towards me. "I don't make a habit of playing counselor, but if these are children as you say, then I will see what I can do about their experiences with war. Their love life, however, I will certainly stay away from."

I can hear Colbert chuckle, perhaps glad for the lighthearted moment.

"Regardless, this 'abnormal magic'?"

The explanation is fairly simple. Valliere seemed to be incapable of using normal magic. Every spell she tried resulted in an explosion. No matter the element. But that recently changed.

There was an attack on a village named Tarbes. And it was there she unleashed what was called Explosion. A legendary 'Void' element spell, something practiced only by the creator of magic himself, apparently.

Fortunately it seemed like she had an option to make it nonlethal, as the spell only ravaged the invasion forces' ships and supplies. And unlike a traditional explosion, it seemed to be described more as a 'white ball that consumed'. So, she doesn't have to live with the deaths of likely hundreds of people on her mind. Though, I wonder how she was able to prevent the deaths from the effects of physics. Surely those soldiers would have fallen to their deaths…? Magic is quite a strange thing.

All of this, save the nonlethal segment, was public knowledge at this point. However, Colbert confided that in me as Valliere confided that in him, and made me swear not to tell her I knew that. This was purely for my benefit, so I knew how to approach her.

"Ah, I'll write a letter of introduction for you as well, so you can give it to them."

"That would be appreciated." I say, going for the door. "I'll be in my usual quarters, then. We'll likely be departing soon, though."

"I'll have it for you by tonight, then."

"Thank you, then Professor."

"Mhm. Though, before you go."

I stop halfway through the door, turning to look back at him.

"What you said about reaching out. It sounded a bit personal, so…"

I can only smile, recalling a both bitter and fond memory as I turn away.

"You could say that for a while, someone waited on me. Until the day I finally decided to reach out my hand and take theirs. But because of that, I know. You don't need to worry, Professor. I know that one day, she will surely reach out to you. It'll just be my job to help her get there."

* * *

"You look troubled."

"Do I, now?"

A sight for sore eyes, Henrietta is. We're out on a balcony in the castle, looking out at the night sky, twinkling with many stars. After the report of what happened to the Academy, Henrietta called us back to the castle. Judging by the fact that it seemed like a second attack was unlikely, I was fine with it. And it's a much welcome break from the dreary scenery around the Academy's burnt ruins.

"You look like you're brooding, is all. If you'd like to share your pain, then please know that I am here."

I give a light chuckle at this. "Was I not the one summoned to assist you?"

"Mou, that's not fair. You know I don't want to treat you like a familiar." She says, leaning up against the railing.

"Oi, posture. You'll get back problems like that."

Henrietta pouts as a breeze tosses her still purple hair about.

"Haha, sorry, sorry. I'm not your father. Anyways, it's nothing major. It's just been a while since I had lost anyone on the battlefield, and then knowing we're heading to the front lines…"

"Are you unsure of your abilities?"

"Hm? No, it's not that. It's more… knowing that I'm going back. It fills me with a strange sense of nostalgia, yet a distinct fear of the unknown. It's familiar, yet not."

A fight against human beings rather than machines. At the very least, I'm still commanding T-Dolls for the most part, but it still gives me pause every now and then. The way that Springfield and the others have said they'll support me, despite knowing they'll be fighting humans. I can't say I'm fully relieved, but I can't say that it isn't comforting to know that they're with me.

I suppose it's a small comfort to know that we're going to be deployed as special operations, rather than be loosed on the front lines. It should hopefully lessen the amount of lives we have to take. Or perhaps I should say the amount of lives I will be commanding the T-Dolls to take.

"You're making a face again." She says, distracting me from my thoughts.

"Am I?"

"You must really have something occupying your mind." Henrietta says, walking away over to a small cart and picking up a saucer with a teacup on it. "Here."

"Thank you, Your Highness." I say, taking it.

"I think I know what it's about, though."

"Do you?" I ask before sipping some tea.

"Agnes told me about you. What you told her."

"As I expected her to." I say bluntly, already understanding that Agnes' loyalty is to Henrietta.

"Hehe, did you? Well, that makes it a bit easier then." Henrietta says, taking her own cup. "You're fretting about fighting people, right?"

"You're frightening." I say after putting my cup down.

"It wasn't that hard to piece together, but sometimes Agnes doesn't pick up on those things. When she mentioned what the 'T-Dolls' were and how you fought other beings like them, I figured it out. Most mages wouldn't think twice about destroying another mage's golem. If anything you'd probably just have to pay for the property damage, because that's what they are. But a murder is something far, far worse."

I sigh, looking into my teacup.

"You don't have to fight if you don't want to." She says, causing me to snap my head left to look at her.

"I'm going to, though. That's what I was summoned to do, right? To help you out."

"Even so, I… I am not like other mages, Oliver, who see their familiars as tools to use their powers and abilities for gain."

"I'll get through it." I say, a bit more forcefully this time. "Besides, this place has won me over. If I just roll over, it'd mean the destruction of this place. And frankly, if I'm going to be stuck in this world, there isn't really any other kingdom that I'd like to work with."

I hear her stifle a chuckle. "I see. Then I'm glad to have your support."

"Though, can I ask something?"

"Go ahead, yes."

"What's your opinion of Hiraga Saito?"

"O-O-Oliver, where is this, this coming from?!" She suddenly shouts, almost dropping her teacup and saucer as her face turns red in the moonlight.

"Ah, sorry. Allow me to rephrase the question. What is your opinion of having him sent to the front lines of the war?"

She huffs, turning her head away from me. "What an uncouth man you are. But… I am conflicted. Louise was so happy when I requested her help and Saito is a very kind person, so he was willing to go as well. However, when I think about what they must be going through, what I have put my friends into… my heart tears in two. I wish I didn't have to send them there. But my nation's military is weak. The magic of 'Void' and Saito's power are our only hopes. Though, Oliver, you made one mistake."

"That is?"

"I… did not have them sent to the front lines of war. I put them into a similar position as I told you about."

"Ah, special operations. It was to avoid having them killed, right?"

"Mhm…"

"I see. Well, that's good to hear."

The two of us quietly drink our tea, looking out at the city. After about ten minutes, Henrietta speaks again.

"Oliver, do you think we can win?"

"I don't have enough of a strategic overview to answer that honestly."

I hear her giggle. "Well, you're better than half of my generals, then, who say they'll find a way to win."

"I was never into grand strategy, I suppose." I mumble, putting my now empty teacup on the saucer in my hands. "Even when I commanded, it was always small picture stuff. The big picture thinking was left to the higher ups. I just received objectives and was told to accomplish them with conditions."

"Hmm, I see, I see."

"But…" I close my eyes before turning my head up, opening them to see the night sky. "...I think I'm going to be okay, after tonight."

"Oliver?"

"I might waver a little bit, but I've got something I can lean on, now." I say, turning my head down. "Those kids, your friends. If there's anyone who I want to spare from war, it'll be them. And so… if the T-Dolls and I can settle this war faster, it'll mean that there's less chances for them to experience something horrific."

"Ah…" I see Henrietta smile widely out of the corner of my eye. "Thank you, Oliver. I hope that you'll be able to bring a swift end to the war, then. All of you."

"Mhm."

"You've got another look on your face, now."

"Do I, now?"

"Yes, indeed. It almost seems like you're at peace, but not quite. Nostalgic, maybe?"

"Just a bit. This wouldn't be the first time I've had this conversation, about me wavering in the fact of difficult decisions."

"That's fine, Oliver. It's not like we're always strong. I wavered too, back with that arranged marriage. So, as long as you're there to support me, I'll be there to support you—what's so funny? I-I am being serious here!"

I wave her off, trying not to smile. "It's just that those words are very similar to ones I've heard before, is all. And the person who said them to me, well… I imagined them saying those words again to me now, and you two are frankly very, very different."

Henrietta huffs, still pouting. "Well, excuse me for trying to comfort you."

"Sorry, sorry. It's just the big difference between the two of you was amusing."

"So… the natural question is just who was this person?"

"Is," I say, leaning up against the railing and looking out at the city. "She's not dead, yet."

"A lover? Or perhaps, a beloved?"

"I guess that's the natural question, but no. Just a mentor." I say, shaking my head as Henrietta moves to stand next to me. "A ferocious one, at that. The rumor that went around was that she was a demon lord."

"A demon lord? But you said that magic—"

"Ah, ah, just… a title, not actually a demon." I say, correcting her. Henrietta nods, understanding. "Sorry, I should've clarified. But I frankly wouldn't be surprised if that woman turned out to be an actual demon."

"For someone who you make out to be terrifying, I can't imagine why someone who comes off as gentle as you would be so fond of them."

"Maybe it was in how we complimented each other." I say with a shrug. "Or perhaps… there was a bit of a demon in me, too."

"Please do not say such a terrible thing ever again, Oliver." Henrietta says, tugging at my sleeve. "You are my kingdom's saving star, the one I have placed my faith in. I will not have you compare yourself to monsters that lurk in the dark."

I can't help but smile a bit at her forcefulness. "Understood, ma'am. But, you should still be thankful for her. After all, she's the one who rebuilt me, back when I nearly fractured. If it wasn't for that demon lord, you wouldn't have a star that would grant your wish."

Her expression darkens slightly at that, with Henrietta sighing. "I see. Why was she called a demon lord, though?"

"Compared to my strategies, she was brutal. Granted, she wasn't stupid about our troops." I say, closing my eyes and remembering. "Every operation pushed our troops to the brink. I honestly thought our troops would break under the pressure, but somehow under her leadership, they didn't. _If you trust the demon lord, even hell can't burn you_, some of the T-Dolls used to mutter. Honestly… if you wanted someone who could guarantee you victory, it would've been better to summon her."

"Please stop berating yourself in that way, Oliver." Henrietta says, a lot more force in her voice. "Because to me, what matters is that you were the one to answer the call, and you have no held anything back in my aid. I do not wish to rule over a pile of ashes, with subjects that scurry in the shadows as if afraid. Thus, I am glad to have summoned you, with your firm yet fair hand. So please…"

"I get it, Your Highness. It's just in my nature to regret things and wonder about if I could have saved more lives."

"I know, it's written all over your face." Henrietta whispers back, tugging at my sleeve. "But Oliver, please know: I will not regret summoning you. Therefore, please continue to aid me as you have been. You are not the only person with regrets. I have opened myself to you before and so now as you open yourself to me, please do not hesitate to speak with me."

I chuckle, wondering if Henrietta really is only seventeen or so. The way she speaks is quite refined, meant to be able to win the hearts of her people. But I guess that's real leaders for you, huh? They always seem to know what to do, even when on the inside they have absolutely no idea what the right choice is. And even if they don't know, they'll be able to take the first step forward, leading everyone after them.

"Alright, alright. Guess we both need a little bit of help every now and then, huh?"

"Of course. So, as long as you are willing to do so, Oliver, please continue to support me, and I shall offer you the same in return."

I'll hold you to that, Henrietta.

* * *

Our new orders are to head over to the front lines, where we'll be receiving our orders from the generals there. Henrietta's already sent a messenger ahead to inform them of an 'elite tactical squadron' being deployed to help.

We'll be departing in two days, but it would seem we were fortunate. Namely, Academia contacted us and said that they had something.

"You're a lucky man, Commander Baker." The sharp voice of one Eleonore Valliere says as she walks into the room, a larger-than-normal briefcase held in her left hand.

"Professor Valliere. To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you today?"

She puts the briefcase down on my table, unlocks it, and turns it towards me before opening it, revealing a pair of devices. "I finished a working prototype. I heard on the grapevine that the musketeers would be moving out soon, so it's a rush job. But it'll do."

A bit of a bulky device to wear on the head, but it's workable. Metallic in sheen, with a mix of silver and golds. I see some cloth put over where they are to rest on the ears and they're designed much like I asked with the headset design in mind.

"Presenting the LRTD Prototype, or Long Range Transmission Device." She says, with a more than fair bit of pride. "I've already tested it myself and it's functional."

"What's my effective distance?"

"Twenty miles maximum, but fifteen before you start to experience some degradation. Exceed twenty and you'll find exponential delays in your communication time."

"I see." I say with a small, but impressed nod.

"However, if you stay within fifteen miles, you'll find almost instant communication, or within half a second."

"Amazing. I assume it was to the designs?"

"To the letter. Push the button to send your message, let go to stop the flow of magic. However, it's very limited in charge due to the size. You can only talk for so long."

"What am I looking at in terms of uptime?"

"Forty minutes for the channel to be open."

"Forty should be plenty enough." I say with a nod.

"Since you're going to Albion, it has a lot of natural wind stones embedded in the ground. It should be able to recharge just by being there, but if you can find a Wind mage to recharge it, you'll find it should take a shorter amount of time." She says, closing the briefcase. "I estimate, based on my calculations, it will take a full six hours from a zero to full recharge once you're on the mainland of Albion."

"I see. Thank you for the information."

"It's all enclosed in a small notebook I've tucked in the case." She says, adjusting her glasses. "I've also sent the invoice to Her Highness as well."

"I'll let her know if she hasn't seen it." I say, putting a hand out. "Thank you for your work."

She pauses, looking at my hand before gently taking it, giving me a narrow-eyed gaze. "My sister's out there, Commander."

"I'll do my best to bring her home." I say, putting as much firmness in my voice as I can.

"She's a foolish girl, going out into that war. Apparently the princess trusts her or something." She says, breaking our handshake. "That 'Zero' actually thinking she has potential…"

She trails off, shaking her head.

"My apologies, Commander. I didn't mean to waste your time with personal matters. You must be busy."

I only shake my head 'no'. "It's fine, Professor. I would not wish to have children going into battle, either, willing or not. I do not know whether or not I will be fighting alongside her, but please know that if I do, I'll bring her home."

"Don't make empty promises." She scoffs, turning around and walking for the door. "But, I hear you managed to fend off the horde of fire mages that attacked the Academy without a single mage in your ranks. I suppose if there's anyone that could logically claim that, it'd be you."

"Thank you for the compliment. And, thank you for your delivery. I look forward to working further with you, Professor Valliere. Good day."

I hear a small, amused snort from her as she leaves the room. Afterwards, Springfield steps in, closing the door behind us.

"She seems like quite a strong woman, Commander."

"Considering who her mother is, that isn't a surprise." I mumble, leaning back in my chair. "Are all of your preparations complete?"

"Yes, sir. The T-Dolls are ready to move out whenever you are."

"Good. We're being moved in the next two days, so make sure everything is squared away."

"Of course, sir. Also, Captain Agnes has been doing better as of late. She no longer seems to have such a heavy weight on her shoulders, recently."

"That's good to hear. Keep me posted on how she's doing."

"But, sir." Springfield says, her hands folding together in front of her waist. "I must ask that you make sure you are doing well, too. It would not do well for us to lose you."

I bite my lip, knowing that Springfield probably knows that the idea of commanding these T-Dolls to kill humans, the very people they were meant to protect, is still on my mind. It's not like that's something that just goes away very easily.

"Sir, we're here for you." Springfield says again, looking around. "And… we are loyal to _you_. Should you…"

...wish to leave, is the unsaid line, as I wave Springfield off so she won't be able to finish it.

Honestly, it would've been more convenient if they didn't have such emotional depth in their system. If to them, every human life was treated the exact same. But T-Dolls can have preferences, can like things, can dislike things, and while it makes for an odd sort of beauty, it has drastic consequences here. I suppose it doesn't matter so much back home. There is no need to consider who is more important to save when it comes to three humans against a horde of death machines.

But when it comes to choosing between one human you might hold above ten strangers, even the most just and moral of people would hesitate.

"Springfield."

"Sir."

"Please don't make light of my loyalty."

"I—" She glances down at the ground, an expression of shame on her face. "I did not mean to imply such a thing, Commander. Please forgive me."

"I know you didn't, so please don't apologize." I say, closing my eyes and leaning my head back to face the ceiling. "But, unfortunately, I'm a bit of a coward at times. If you give me the option to run away, I might just end up taking it someday."

"...I see. Then, I won't bring it up anymore, sir."

"Thank you."

Sometimes I wish I could've been like her, that commander who mentored and perhaps… "watched over" me for a time, back when I almost fell apart. She'd order everyone to march towards almost certain death with a gleeful smile on her face. If war was hell, she truly was the devil. That woman had no weakness to her when surrounded by gunfire and smoke—I'd wager if she could keep up with the T-Dolls, she'd be fighting alongside them until her heart gave out. A ferocious beast in the shape of a woman.

And yet, at the end of it, she'd turn around in that small command post, where we were almost completely safe, and say to me: _"Yo buddy, still alive?"_. My response would almost invariably be something along the lines of "Ask that to the T-Dolls", to which she would chuckle and not speak anymore.

I wish you could've gotten her, Henrietta. But unfortunately, you were stuck with me. However, it's not like I don't have my pride. And as much of a coward as I am, hesitant to sacrifice at times even when absolutely necessary, I have things I can't let go. Children being forced to walk miles as adults is one of them.

"Sir?" Springfield asks as I stand up, exhaling rather heavily.

"It's nothing, Springfield. Don't mind me."

"...if you say so, sir."

"Springfield, just promise me one thing."

"First, where are you going, sir?"

"Just for a bit of a walk. Clear my head a bit."

She nods. "Very well, Commander. Then, what did you want me to promise you?"

"Come back alive from this upcoming war."

I see Springfield pause, then smile a bit. "Do you always make your T-Dolls promise that, before an engagement?"

"I find it helps morale."

"You know, if you read enough literature, there is an eighty seven percent mortality rate among those who make a promise in similar circumstances."

"I won't hold it against you if you don't." I say, opening the door to my office.

"A-ah, that isn't to say I won't make it." Springfield says, suddenly stammering a bit. "However, Commander, might I ask an unfair promise in return?"

"An unfair promise? Sure, let's hear it."

"On behalf of the other T-Dolls here, I would like to ask you to stay alive as well. That is to say, both physically and mentally. While this is understandably more difficult, as humans cannot so easily have their memories mo—"

I raise a hand to stop Springfield. "When you say 'on behalf of the other T-Dolls', is that just you?"

She shakes her head. "All of us have come together to formulate our response, Commander. We have all walked harsh roads, but we would like to continue to serve under you. So while it is selfish and wrong for a T-Doll to ask such a thing from their Commander, we would like for the Commander that you are not to change."

How embarrassing… it's a miracle Springfield can deliver such a line with a straight face. I'd expect to hear that kind of line out of some cheesy romance TV serial.

"No wonder Spectre's been jumpy all week and even PPK seemed a bit subdued." I mumble, with Springfield giggling.

"Spectre has… had a bit of a hard time, even before coming to this world, Commander, so her asking that was something she viewed as impossible. And PPK was likely struggling with how to word it without her… quirk."

I resist the urge to make a comment at the choice of the word 'quirk'. "I see. Well… all right. I suppose I've put you girls through your paces recently. You all have the right to ask for something a little unreasonable every now and then. A promise for a promise, then?"

Springfield gives me a small, demure smile. However, it almost feels like she's struggling to hold a larger one back.

"Of course, Commander. We'll come back alive."

"And so will I."

* * *

**WHEEZE**

**Okay, work's been a real thorn in my side schedule wise. To edit this guy, I legit printed it out so I could write on the paper and then transfer it to the file when I got done. As of the time I'm writing this, it's like 8pm because I forgot until the last second lmao.**

**Anyways, not a ton, mostly just the setting up of the upcoming war segment, the comms, and putting Colbert/Oliver slightly against each other. I kind of liked the idea of them having different ideas on how to approach Agnes, with Colbert relenting with his somewhat backhanded statement of "greater men have tried". Sort of ties into when Oliver speaks of his mentor.**

**And yes, I stole the line from Ace Combat Zero lmao. It was such a nice line, and I thought it fit. Just touching a bit into Oliver's past without exposing a whole lot, but there's definitely a picture coming together with all the small hints along the way that start to indicate what might have happened.**

**I don't exactly have a lot to say for this chapter, mostly just a good transition one in between. My friends are still yelling at me though, saying "THIS BETTER NOT ALL BE AN EXCUSE TO WRITE A SLOW BURNING ROMANCE WITH SPRINGFIELD" considering how much screentime she gets relevant to the other dolls. I might try to put Spectre and PPK in, though, mix it up a little. It's just that Springfield's the easiest to write out of all of them lol**

**As always, let me know what you think. I'm off to bed now, because it's time for another work week. See you all next time!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Surprise, I'm not dead.**

* * *

**Chapter 9: **First Flight

* * *

"Couldn't sleep?"

The older gentleman, dressed in the navy blue uniform of Tristain's Dragon Knights that look similar to Agnes' musketeer uniform but more designed to reduce drag, turns around. Like many of the others here, he has blonde hair and blue eyes, the former well kept and organized. He also has a trimmed beard and moustache, giving him a distinguished look that pairs well with the cane and sword with him.

"Commander Baker, good evening." He says, giving me a nod. Unlike some of the other nobles here, he has treated me with a lot more respect. "And I could ask you the same question."

His name is Andersen Gautier Onfroi de la Shilage, but has asked me to refer to him as Captain Gautier. We've been put together for the next assignment, which will be making a foothold on the floating island of Albion. The reasoning for us being together though, is a bit saddening. By the time we arrived, most of his squad had been taken out. He was down to a squad of six dragon knights, himself included. Thus, we were to form the first joint air-ground unit of Tristain's fleet. Why his unit wasn't co-opted into another company, I'm not quite sure, considering how dragon knights seem to be fairly rare. I'd figure they would have rolled his unit into another one in order to maximize effectiveness.

Well, relatively rare, anyways. Out of an entire brigade, I would estimate that only one company would be dragon knights. There were similar ratios for pegasus or griffin knights. Manticore knights on the other hand, were far more rare. I'd estimate that every division, there would be only one company of manticore knights.

"Well, I just finished doing some paperwork." I say, stepping next to his side, looking out at the dark sea of clouds that roll on by beneath us. "Figured I could take a walk before going to bed."

"I see."

"The same for you, I take it?"

"I was here to think of all the men I lost, is all."

"Ah. I'll leave you alone, if that's the case."

"No, the company is appreciated. I can tell that you've lost a lot as well."

I close my eyes and try not to chuckle bitterly at this. After that, the two of us simply stand there for a while. He's a lot older than me, I would say, based on his figure and wrinkles on his face. At that point I would have thought he'd be retired by now, but I guess for some of us, we just feel a need to come back.

"We're supposedly landing tomorrow. We should probably be rested for that." I say after about ten minutes goes by.

"Ah, indeed. We'll be putting our faith in that Vallerie girl and her familiar."

"What ship are they on?"

"They're on the lead ship, the _Majesty_. Why do you ask?"

"Her older sister is an associate of mine. I told her if I were to encounter her sister, I'd do my best to ensure that she came home, being only a child."

"Which one?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

"What do you mean, 'which one'?"

"There are two older sisters of the youngest Vallerie girl." He says, a slightly concerned twitch going across his face. "Was she blonde or…"

"Yes, blonde, golden hair, eyes as sharp as a hawk's. Why?"

I can only describe the look he gives me as pity, concern, and one that says "Good luck" as he just turns away. "Well, I wish you well in your endeavors, then. And I would recommend to you that you don't stand out too much in her eyes."

"I see…?"

I don't know exactly how I am to respond to that, so I simply give something noncommittal.

"Ah, I'm afraid you don't quite understand, then."

"If you would please educate me, I would be most gracious."

"It likely won't concern you, as you are not of noble birth nor have you been given the rank of a noble such as a Chevalier." He says, chuckling. "But, if you were, then yes you should worry. The… eldest child of the Valleries is quite… prickly, let us say. A rose with many thorns."

"She indeed has a very strong personality."

He gives a snort of amusement. "It drives away many a man and it is custom that the eldest marries first. As you can imagine, perhaps, it is… with much difficulty that she finds one that sticks all the way from engagement to marriage."

"Ah, so that's how it is. Well, with any luck I shall avoid being given such a title, then."

"I believe it is more in your interest to avoid being in her sightlines in general."

"I shall choose where it is I go and when it is I arrive. But I will take your warnings into account." I say, crossing my arms. "I doubt that I'll have to worry too much, though. Judging from what I have heard through the trickles of the grapevine, I will not be given any such glamorous tasks."

"Neither shall I, I suppose."

"May I know why, then?"

"Oh, you know how it is. I am as decorated as they come save for the incredible such as Karin of the Heavy Wind. They cannot have such a figure leading the charge if they mean to grasp glory. I would overshadow them."

"Would you not normally have heroes leading the charge, then?"

"I would be inclined to agree, however, I believe that the presence of Germania has clouded some of their judgement. Seeing as how Germania is by far the kingdom with the most military power, some of them might think that this will be their time to shine. It has been a long time since the last major war and I am beginning to fear that they have forgotten its horrors. Instead of occupying themselves with coming home alive, they mean to prioritize their medals and glory. Granted, if this war drags on, then I am sure they'll learn the lessons I once did."

"Idiots."

He gives a smile of agreement before looking forward once again. "I intend to win all of my battles, of course, with minimal casualties."

"As do I."

"Then it seems it may have been fate working from the shadows to bring us together." He says, closing his eyes. "I do not like this war, but Tristain is my land, my home, and my heart. For that, I shall fight to the bitter end."

"Let's hope that it doesn't come to that tomorrow, then."

* * *

"Enfield, eleven o'clock!"

Agnes pokes her head out of the makeshift cover and fires a shot right into the chest of a dragon rider who was about to buzz us. His body soars backwards and starts tumbling down through the unfortunately not endless sea of clouds.

I peek out of the doorway, pulling back as a green flash of light streaks closer. It strikes further down the hall, right on the floor, blowing the planks of wood apart.

I'm not quite sure of the details of this operation, but apparently we're supposed to hold out while this Vallerie girl pulls off some kind of miracle. However, the enemy is incredibly strong, likely equalling if not exceeding our forces. Why this miracle has to be done _after_ we engaged the enemy has not been explained, but it's the reality we live in.

Gautier's air support is downright amazing, however. The rest of his squadron, though only six strong, has managed to fend off approximately fifty percent of the enemy air power that attacks our ship. Twenty percent has been the rest of the ship's crew, while the other thirty percent is—

I wince as I hear another loud _criiick!_ of a body hitting the deck of the ship. From the wound, it's obviously a gunshot that did him in. These dragon knights are a real pain in the ass, but there is one weakness of theirs. While dragons are apparently very armored and hard to kill, their riders are… dramatically less so.

For a normal human, even a mage, they're difficult to track and kill. Agnes is incredible for being able to target with such precision. However, for Springfield and the other T-Dolls, even if they aren't using their etched weapons, their calculation abilities far exceed normal human brain capacity. After approximately thirty minutes of analyzing their movement patterns and aerodynamics, they've been able to hit with I want to say ninety percent accuracy.

Honestly, the close air support has been fantastic. What I wouldn't have given to have this level of support during my time in Griffin…

My thoughts are interrupted by the ship shaking, with us having taken another volley of cannonballs. Everyone holds onto something to stabilize themselves, Gautier's squad doubling their efforts while our anti-air fire is currently inoperable.

"This is bad, we're going to lose the ship at this rate!" Agnes says, peeking out behind cover and shooting at another flier.

"What are our options?"

"Jump?"

"Very funny!" I yell, ducking away from another bombing run that rips up even more of the deck. "Not seeing a way out!"

Unless…

"Gautier!"

He quickly barks some words to his squad who form a protective dome around us as he lands on the ruined deck, facing me. "Make it quick!"

"How much weight can you carry?"

He glances around at us, immediately understanding the situation. "A lot more than you would think."

"Ah, the guns are a bit heavy, though."

I cycle through my head what the probable weight of each doll is. I know that some of the military grade Dolls were certainly on the heavier end, but the civilian converted ones are likely lighter. That is to say it isn't impossible to pick some of the smaller ones up, I suppose.

"Worst case, we can all use wind magic to help supplant the weight." He says before taking off to avoid an attack launched at him.

"Got it! Have your men approach from the stern towards the bow, we'll do stop and go landings!"

"Understood! Relaying the order! There's too much noise so we'll have to do visual confirmation of approach!"

"Copy that, go!"

I watch him take off into the protective dome his squad has set up, likely letting them know what the game plan is. Now just to fulfill my end.

"All Dolls, listen up! Extraction is coming in, dragon knights will approach from the stern of the ship towards the bow! Extraction order will be Enfield, PPK, Spectre, then Springfield! Springfield, Enfield, provide covering fire!"

"What about you, sir?!" Springfield yells over another volley of cannonball shots that rock the ship.

"I'll be going last to issue orders as the situation changes down here!"

Worst case, if I don't make it, Agnes can be designated as a Commander. It's why she needs to get off the ship first. I can still forward commands using the Long Range Transmission Device once she's up in the air.

I see Springfield quietly nod before she returns to covering fire. I then move up ahead, breaking out of the cover provided by the entrance of the cabin and onto the deck of the ship, where some crates and barrels provide some measure of cover. I check behind us, towards the stern of the ship.

Two dragon riders, one flying a little lower than the other. The other one is probably providing cover as they go in, able to dissuade anyone from trying to directly engage the more vulnerable one.

"Enfield, extraction inbound, get ready!"

The dragon comes in fast, then spreads its wings for maximum drag, slowing itself down while Agnes runs for where the approximate landing zone is. The dragon rider is a sitting duck at the time, but his wingman helps to cover him along with the other air support we have active.

Though in order to speed up the run, as Agnes is being pulled up, the dragon is already moving to create a harder target; however, it doesn't really pick up speed until Agnes is fully situated. Once she is, the dragon gives a mighty flap of its wings and sends a gust of wind through the deck of the ship, taking off into the skies.

She's downright insane, though, as Agnes is already trying to land shots as she's flown about.

"PPK, take Enfield's previous position and get ready for extraction!"

"As you wish, sir~"

The ship continues to creak as the pair swoops in again, though this time the dragon rider that didn't pick up Agnes is in the lead. I doubt they've trained for this, but their ability to adapt is to be commended as they spread their wings to once again increase drag. PPK's smaller frame makes it easier, though compared to Agnes I can see the dragon strain a little bit under the weight before taking off. However, it doesn't have as much difficulty, so she can't weigh that much more than Agnes.

"Spectre, you're up!"

Another pair drops in, picking her up, then Springfield moves into position under my command.

"Commander—"

"Go!" I yell, seeing the pair that picked up Spectre swooping in to pick her up.

The whole time, the ship has been under fairly constant fire. It's to the point that whatever was keeping the ship stable is likely damaged as it's starting to sway back and forth. Springfield gives me one last look before running forward and catching her ride.

This thing better hold together just a bit longer…!

"Come on, Oliver!"

I see Gautier swiftly approaching from the aft of the ship, coming in much faster than his cohort as all of them are covering him along with the girls riding on the back of the dragons shooting. I brace myself against the cover I've been hiding behind as the ship tilts slightly so I don't go spilling overboard. This is going to be a much more complex landing…!

When I peek over again, his dragon's feet are just about touching the deck, with its wings fully spread for maximum drag. He holds out his hand, ready to grab me—

"Shi—!"

—when the ship suddenly lurches downward, nose first. Gautier's hand is withdrawn as he steadies himself even though he's harnessed onto his dragon. His dragon struggles to grip onto the wood but the angle soon becomes too steep. As I find something to brace myself against, an elevated portion of the deck where one of the cannons used to be that's thankfully there, I'm glad that my feet have some footing, and additionally I managed to find a grip around the railing of the ship as I see him take off.

"I'll loop back around and pick you up!"

Judging by how those things are more like planes rather than helicopters, unless he's capable of some kind of straight vertical lift I only see one real way of doing this!

It's a race against the clock as I see him circle around, evading enemy fire while I cling on for life. There must be something left keeping the ship up, just damaged enough to where it can't sustain the ship in full—at least I hope so, considering how it doesn't feel like I'm in free fall just yet.

We should be high enough the ground where a crash isn't imminent just yet, but the real issue is that if the _nose_ is diving more and more, the _aft_ of the ship is _rising_. I really do not like this angle we are approaching!

"Oliver, above you!"

I look up, rapidly pulling my head back to avoid some falling debris. However, after poking out again, I see Gautier descending from the skies.

"Get as far out as you can!"

Oh God, this definitely is out of my pay grade. But if I need to stay alive…

I take a brief breath to calm myself down. I look down for just a second, trying to gauge where to throw myself to avoid any falling debris as I won't have visibility in about two seconds. I briefly consider trying to slide down to give Gautier the maximum time possible, but with the holes in the deck I'm likely to screw that up, so there's really only one option. Here goes.

"Hor-iah!"

With what little footing I have, I get a "running start" and catapult myself into the air. I spread my arms and legs out to get as much drag as possible to slow my descent while also turning my back as I don't have any eyegear to protect my eyes and also hold onto the LRTD just in case, mostly because we didn't exactly plan for it to be in this kind of environment, so it's lacking a chin strap.

Gautier descends like a comet, closing the distance between us as his dragon's wings shift to become more aerodynamic. I squint my eyes as the sun's rays are starting to get into them as I descend, hearing the rush of wind and the chills running across my body.

Eventually, I feel something grip my left hand, pulling me in. Opening my eyes just a bit more, I find Gautier dragging me in closer.

"Pull yourself in, Oliver, in front of me!"

I comply, using swapping hands to pull myself over in front of him while also keeping a hand on the LRTD, then pulling down to sit down on the dragon's back despite my reduced visibility due to the rushing winds.

"Brace yourself!" He yells, wrapping an arm around me.

We both grunt as he pulls a turn, with both of us straining under the force of the turn. I feel my head pull into his, with Gautier being pulled back into his seat on the dragon, but eventually we level out while still going at high speeds.

"Just keep your eyes closed, we're going to get back onto a ship where you can dismou—hold on, what is going on…?."

I feel us slowing down, and as we coast along I open my eyes, using my left hand as a small shield against the light winds.

"Are they… retreating?" I ask, narrowing my eyes as I try to get a better view.

"It seems like it... for now, we should regroup."

"Where to?"

"Don't worry about contacting your folks. We'll all fly into the _Intrepid _and figure out just what the situation is…"

* * *

We're not the only ones who touch down, apparently wondering what the hell is going on despite some people pressing the advantage. According to the reports, another massive fleet suddenly showed up in another area of Albion despite the fact that surely _this_ was the main fleet. If we had a fleet that was apparently equal in number to the fleet defending Albion and really wanted to split them, why did we not attack at the same time?

"I see."

"Oliver?"

"The miracle that Vallerie was to pull off."

They had to be sure that the enemy engaged us first. They couldn't risk Vallerie being detected, perhaps, so they had to wait for us to be engaged before having her do whatever she did.

Gautier pauses for a bit before nodding. "Ahhh, it makes sense now."

A distraction for a distraction.

"Does it seem like the fleet is going to hold off?"

"Not at all." Gautier says, looking ahead. "It seems other ships are launching their knights and pressing the attack. No point wasting this opportunity."

"I suppose so. Unfortunately, there's much we can do without getting closer."

"Hmm."

I look over at Gautier, who glances at his dragon riders. It seems an idea is coming to mind.

"I have a plan. Ready your soldiers. We're going hunting."

* * *

It doesn't take long for me to realize what Gautier was up to, once the two-person harnesses are loaded. They're loaded especially quickly as everyone is scrambling to get as many fighters in the air while the Reconquistan fleet is in retreat mode.

I slide my legs into the harness, strapping myself in behind Gautier. Seating's a bit awkward, but it's better that he be in front so he can see where the hell we're going while I've got my pistol. I need to make a note to ask Agnes for more firearm training in the event I'm going to be out on the field again. I had that luxury back during the era of T-Dolls, but this is a far cry from that.

"Strapped in?"

I slide my goggles on top of the LRTD and tighten them to secure both the goggles and the headset, nodding. "Good to fly."

"Understood."

He whistles, with all of his dragon knights forming into a two column three row formation. PPK and Agnes are at the front, with Springfield and Spectre in the middle.

"Alright, we're taking off, ten second intervals between each pair! Follow the fray and keep your wingman alive!"

"All T-Dolls, you are clear to engage all viable targets. Don't hold back."

"Roger!" Both sets of fighters say back.

"On my mark. Three. Two. One. Mark!"

The first set of dragon knights surge forward with their dragons, taking to the air. Ten seconds after them, the second pair go. Ten seconds after that, we shoot off into the skies.

It's not going to be easy to keep my gun in my hands, but worst case if I lose it, I can always just do callouts for Gautier now that I've got visibility.

"_Commander, this is Enfield."_

"I copy, what's going on?"

"_Looks like a real mess up ahead, just giving you a heads up. The retreating Reconquista fleet might be running away but they've still got some fight in them."_

"Understood. Keep your wits about you and trust your pilot. Provide cover fire for them as intended."

"_Got it. Enfield out."_

"That's a pretty handy device. I'll have to ask you about getting one after this."

"It's pretty expensive."

"Is that so? It seems that war is always changing. While this old pilot can still do something, let's dive into the fireworks."

With that, I can feel my stomach lurch as Gautier rolls us left and dives down before readjusting us to be heads up, his wingman following. I hold onto my pistol and look around, knowing that I'm no marksman.

Gautier makes a series of hand gestures with his left hand, likely communicating what he's seeing to his partner. Dead ahead is a formation of four fliers, clearly Reconquista in colors, which slightly disappear as Gautier dips just slightly into a cloud. Judging by his speed and heading, he's aiming to break their formation with a straight drive, his with partner providing both a distraction and covering fire.

This old man's really got some steel to him, doesn't he…?!

The wind is howling as we drive straight in, performing exactly as he intended. The flight is scattered as they are relying on visuals and the sheer chaos of the fight is making it hard to keep track of where everything is.

I grunt as he pulls a fairly high speed turn after going vertical, probably trying to use the sun to limit their view. Plus, if they're looking up, they _aren't_ looking at his wingman.

Glancing down below us, I see that his wingman has taken the opportunity to take a few easy shots in, managing to get at least one down before pulling away as we loop back in, pursuing the trio now chasing his wingman.

Steady now…

It's now that I really appreciate having radar and other electronic measures, back home, as it's only when one of them peeks back to check behind them that they're alerted to our presence. However, in the moment when he's paying more attention to trying to communicate this information to his flight is when Gautier calmly fires a wind spell at the distracted man, scoring a kill with a direct hit as the rider goes limp.

With that, the two remaining dragon knights split off. However, we stick to pursuing the one pursuing Gautier's wingman, trying to get a hit that'll stick on him.

"Coming in around eight o'clock." I say, looking over my shoulder to continue tracing where our pursuer is.

"Can you get a shot off?"

"I don't trust my aim firing behind me."

"How far back is he?"

"I give it maybe fifteen meters or so?"

"Got it. Hold on."

I grunt under the strain as Gautier pulls up slightly, spreading the wings of his dragon to maximize drag. I see underneath us, the dragon rider that was behind us passing us, but instead gaining speed to put as much distance between us and him when we come out of the attempt to get behind him.

"It won't be enough."

Gautier's voice has the chills of a hardened veteran as his dragon immediately swoops back in, flapping its wings and gaining speed. I ready my pistol, trying to find the perfect shot as we close in. Steady… steady… got you!

I squeeze the trigger as we close in, aiming for center of mass. Somehow, I manage to hit him, the pilot keeling over and slumping in his harness. Gautier pulls away, now ready to support his wingman fully.

Reloading is definitely a hell of a lot trickier on this thing, though!

I glance over after struggling to reload, looking around, finding similar tactics going on with the T-Dolls. Weaving left and right, their more pinpoint shots due to their skill in aiming makes for a ferocious combination. Dragon knights and other fliers such as _actual_ pegasuses, pegasi, whatever the word is, fall by the squad as the skill of Gautier's fliers combined with the aiming and power of the T-Dolls makes short work of each of them.

"If we can deal a decisive blow here, what do you estimate Reconquista's air power will be?"

"We'll have to see what's left." Gautier says as he eliminates the dragon knight pursuing his wingman, both of them rejoining as a unit and looping around back towards the rest of the squad. "The most important part is dealing at least enough of a crippling blow to secure a supply line for ourselves. That will be the critical thing going forward. I don't think this campaign is going to end quickly. We'll need to maintain the air corridor, so as long as we can deal enough damage to them to keep them away from a direct attack on our supply port, everything will go smoother."

"I see. Though, what made you come up with this strategy?"

"I just had an idea and wanted to see if it would work. I trusted in your soldiers' skills, is all."

"I'm glad that they've earned such trust from you so quickly."

"I'm more surprised you went along with such a thing, on a spontaneous strategy that hadn't even been field tested before. Quite the risk, for someone who seems as cautious as you."

I smile, thinking back on all of my narrowest, and yet most triumphant, victories. "I think you'll find that when the chips are down, Gautier, that I like to go all-in. Miracles only happen if you try your best, after all."

He chuckles at this while speeding up. "I suppose that's true. Now then, let's get back to work."

Sooner or later, I'd like to have a gun that can fire more than once before having to reload, as it would have helped in the dogfight. However, Gautier proves just why he's been able to fly for this long, pulling turns that give us easy shots and generally outmaneuvering the opposition.

I have to say he's been very patient with me, but I suppose that for doing something on a whim, that he should give me at least that. For the most part, in between my very tenuous reloads, I glance around the battlefield and give callouts.

"Enfield!" I say through our transmission device, turning my head as Gautier pulls another turn. "You've got two pegasus riders, seven o'clock, above!"

"_Copy. Spectre!"_

Likely there's some shouting going on between them as their riders, flying as a unit, move into position. One acts as the lure for the pegasus knights to go after while the other acts as the punishment hammer for taking the bait.

If only I had more of these, I could actively communicate to the whole team at the same time. I suppose that during ground operations, I really only need to communicate with Agnes, but in the event they get separated, I'd like to have one that I can reach the T-Dolls with as they can at least relay commands to each other. Having Agnes as the recipient of the transmission device represents a weak point in our command structure; however, it's a compromise I have to make for now.

"Gautier, got two dragon knights on fast approach. Four o'clock, high."

"Got it."

He signals to his wingman again, with them moving into position. I make sure that my pistol is loaded as I clench on tight, waiting to provide support. They sweep around, making a tight turn to face the enemy knights head-on. Both sides fire off spells, each weaving around the respective vollies as I keep looking for an opening.

Got you!

The first of the enemy dragon knights goes down as he burned a lot of his energy going into a turn to try to get into a position above us. It would have normally worked, except that there's a man in back this time around.

"Surprised we don't see more fliers like this, flying in pairs like us."

"Oh, you know how some of these nobles are. All about the glory for themselves, even when they don't do the work." He says, grunting as we pull into a turn to support his wingman. "If a familiar accomplishes a task for its mage master, then it is to the credit of the mage. If the familiar fails, it is the fault of the familiar."

"How brutal." I say, taking the time we're out of the curve to reload.

"So, why bother splitting the glory when you can take it for yourself? It seems that most nobles have forgotten just how brutal the world can be."

"I'm glad you're not one of them."

"Oho, then remind me never to tell you of my younger years." He pauses as his wingman is chased after, with the target taking the bait. Gautier swoops in and immediately starts locking on, and about thirty seconds later the enemy dragon knight is taken out of the skies.

We continue to soar around, taking out whatever aerial power we can find without straying too far from the fleet. No need to overextend to where we can't retreat to friendly airspace if shit goes south, I suppose.

"_Commander, Enfield here." _Comes Agnes' voice after maybe thirty minutes or so of air action.

"What's the situation, Enfield?"

"_Enemy air power seems to be drastically reduced. Should we attempt boarding action?"_

"Gautier, I'll defer to you. Recommend boarding action?"

"Don't board solo, but it looks like some of our ships have a handle on it already from here. We might just get in the way of the infantry. Back into formation, we'll just be on standby in case anything goes south."

"Enfield, fall back into formation. We're on contingent air patrol, but looks like the battle's over for now."

"_Copy that. I'll relay it to the others. It looks like our own ships are moving in, just like you said."_

"Got it."

It seems that the battle was starting to wrap up anyways. At this point it's mostly the ships that were unable to flee in time or were instructed to remain here while they dealt with the other fleet that supposedly popped up. I can already see a few of the enemy ships raising flags of surrender...

* * *

After about fifteen more minutes, we get word that the day is won. We've sustained some moderate losses, but it's a lot better than what the alternative was. We'll be able to fight off the rest of the force that was split off due to the miracle that Vallerie girl pulled off early. Seems like Tristain lives to fight another day.

"Yo buddy, still alive?"

Gautier turns his head towards me and laughs. "I'm right here, aren't I?"

"Ah, sorry. It's just… nostalgic in a way. A dear friend of mine would ask that question to me as well, after operations, despite us being mere inches from each other."

"I see. What was the correct response?"

"I don't know if there was one." I say as I see the rest of Gautier's squadron moving in after they spot us.

"Then, what did you say in reply?"

"'Who knows?'" I say, earning a chuckle from the older man.

"Well, I hope your answer has changed now."

I only smile, deciding not to give a response in return. I wonder what I would say, if she were to say those words to me now. The kind of face I'd make, what I'd think about, and what words I'd use. And I wonder if I'd say that I was.

"Count them, six dragon knights." Gautier says as his squad moves in to fly with us. "Welcome home, boys."

"Yee-haw!" They cheer back.

"T-Dolls, sound off!" I call out after their hooting and hollering is done with.

"Enfield, reporting!" Agnes' usual cool voice shouts.

"PPK, reporting in just for you, Commander~" PPK says, getting some wolf whistles from Gautier's men.

"Spectre, present!" Spectre calls out, a bit more energized than how she was after the battle at the Academy.

"Springfield, returned!" And last but not least, Springfield's warm voice to welcome us all home.

We all fly in, nice and tight, as I glance over back at my new squadron. While it's likely we won't be making air operations all the time, I think this was a good experience for all of us. It does help us understand what our air operatives are capable of. And perhaps with it, comes a nice bond. It's nice to have people like that on the field, whom you can really trust to come through for you.

And I wonder, as the wings of the dragons spread out to slow us down for a smooth landing, if I'll be able to find that kind of bond again.

* * *

**Sorry for how long it took to get this out. I had this chapter like, half done for a while, but I couldn't figure out how I wanted the battle scene to play out. I don't have too much else to say about this chapter, actually, other than that I just wanted to play around with the idea of air combat and the T-Dolls flying around with dragon knights.**

**That was the trick, really, since T-Doll weights are kind of a wonky subject. I tried to think about how heavy they should be, but I remember someone mentioned in one of the outfit memories the commander straight up picks one up, so it feels slightly inconsistent. I decided to go for something that was somewhat believable, in that Oliver is worried about how they'll function, but it's mentioned that the Dragon Knights can both use wind magic to offset weights, and also that dragons are stronger than he knows. I figured that you know, it's a dragon, so it's believable enough that a dragon could sustain the weight of a T-Doll or something like that.**

**Either way, getting a bit into the war arc, I suppose. I haven't even started the next chapter lmao and I got no clue what I want to do next, so I guess I'll have to puzzle that out. I do have a general idea of the big overarching story, but who knows if we'll get that far since I've slowly started drifting from GFL. I did also submit a story into their contest thing, so we'll see how that goes, haha.**

**Catch you guys all next chapter.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: **White Noise

* * *

"Are you sure you're fine, Commander?"

"Thanks for the concern, Springfield, but I'm all right."

Just as Gautier predicted, the pace of the war slowed down massively once we hit the mainland. Granted, I'm just glad I don't have to experience the horrors of trench warfare.

"Did you misplace your gloves? You should put them on."

"Gave them to a kid in the previous town who was holding his dad's body."

"That's a bit unfair to say it like that." Springfield notes as she ruffles in her bag. "No one can chide you for that. However, please make sure you take care of yourself, Commander. We need you."

I turn my head towards her, finding Springfield holding another pair of gloves that appear to be handmade.

"I had a bit of time after the battle to gain a foothold, is all."

"I didn't know you had yarn."

"I bought some from the local townspeople, is all." She says, flashing a small smile.

"I see. Thank you for your concern." I say, putting the white wool gloves on. It fits quite snugly, almost as if it was crafted purely for me. "Did you need me for something?"

She shakes her head. "I just wanted to make sure you were fine. You seemed a bit on edge after the last battle to take this town. Especially after we rounded that corner by the plaza."

"Ah, that. Yes, I'm fine. It's just a bit… close to the heart. You know how it is."

Springfield glances away, looking down the streets. "Who was it?"

There's a long pause in the air before I speak their names. "Vector and AUG. A Ringleader ambushed us there. Not that we weren't expecting it. We all knew this mission was suicidal, anyways, even for us. Nothing ever felt the same after that."

"Sir?"

"They were members of my A-team. Some of the best soldiers a man could ask for. They held the line so the others could extract safely with the cargo."

Springfield knits her hands together, where I can see her fingers tense up. "I see. Sir, I… I do not know what comfort we can be, but please remember we are all here now."

"Thank you, Springfield. But, enough talking of the haunts of the past. We should make sure we don't have another mission ready for us. Any word from Gautier?"

She shakes her head as we begin walking through the streets. "No word, yet. However, they are due to return from their scouting mission in the next two hours."

"That's good."

We were fielded quite a lot at the start, after landfall, but it seems Gautier was right. People wanted to use this war for their own glory, believing it would be over soon. A bit cruel, to be using us seemingly as cannon fodder and scouts for the mages to swoop up and take the glory, but seeing as how we were all commoners in their eyes it was par for course.

That changed after we simply annihilated the last ten missions given to us. Even without Gautier's air support, for the most part we weren't up against mages or at least a lot of them, unlike when we fought at the Academy. That, and we were free to engage on our own terms. T-Dolls could shoot farther and still hit with devastating force, even in low-light conditions. PPK was basically impossible to hit for the average people when she closed the distance as well, so Agnes gave her a knife that let her really do some damage.

Mages weren't hard to identify either, as they stood out compared to their commoner counterparts. They were always taken out with extreme prejudice, as four gunners all aiming down their sights on them took care of them fairly shortly. If I could feel shame for using tactics like these, I'd almost feel a bit bad for constantly abusing nighttime tactics and even for mages, their inability to see in the dark unaided.

Regardless, after it became clear we weren't about to get our shit kicked in, the amount of missions we were sent on quickly dried up, with the occasional one passed down directly from high command, as it seems there's _someone_ reasonable in charge there. Outside of that, we then were relegated to "investigation" missions, which was fine with me. After all, it was a rather odd occurrence, lately.

Fliers who were shot down over forests and reported dead apparently kept coming back, alive and well. However, they had no recollection of any memories after being shot down. It wasn't every flier, either, just some of them. An analysis of the areas they were shot down told me either there was a group of these people or it was one person travelling around, based on the shot down dates and times.

While obviously, it didn't smell of being a T-Doll at work, I often had Spectre fly out with the Dragon Knights to utilize her radio and broadcast our presence and that there was a Griffin commander here. So far, no dice.

"I hope we can find some kind of repair facility or tools." I mumble, looking up at the twilight sky. As winter is setting in, it's already starting to turn dark around five "I really would like to repair Spectre's leg."

"It's unlikely we'll encounter one while we're constrained by the war, sir."

"I know, but I'm just praying we find one. It'll be good not just for her survival, but also her mentality. I know that you girls often take pride in your ability to fight, but the way she talks about it, how devastated she seems to be… it makes me wonder what happened to her."

"Should I inform her that you're concerned?"

"I don't know if that will help, but if you do so, please let her know that I am not requiring she talk to me. I am here to listen when she does want to talk."

"Of course, sir. I had a question, too."

"Yes?"

"Vector and AUG… were they unable to be recovered? Their neural cloud data, I mean."

"Springfield, think of them like paintings. Beautiful paintings that you've worked on for years. They've survived house fires, burglaries, your own carelessness at times. But one day those paintings don't survive. But it's okay, some might say, you've recorded all of your motions. You took pictures of the painting down to the last stroke of the brush. A nice, pristine painting, free of its wrinkles, its errors, its blemishes. However… is it really the same painting?"

"Some might say it is, but I believe others would not."

"Mhm. I believe it's easy to see where I fall. But come now, let's not ruin this peaceful night with gloomy tales. There is a war to be fought, with plenty of time for sadness later."

* * *

"Spectre, report."

"No signs." She says, nodding. "Long range communications turned up empty. I've repeated the same message every time in different areas, so they've either got their communicators turned off or they just aren't responding."

"I suppose that it's risky communicating back. We'll try to retailor the message tonight, hopefully if we include more than just my name, they'll trust it. I'll add in some more information, but thank you for the sweep."

"It's the least I can do, Commander."

"Get some rest, Spectre."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and Spectre?"

She turns around, raising an eyebrow. "Commander?"

"Stay warm, okay? If you need a coat, don't hesitate to let me know."

"It's rude to stare at a girl's legs, Commander. Minus ten points." PPK says from behind me, and despite the fact that she's on our side I can't help but feel an icy chill go down my spine.

"If there is anything you would like to criticize about my character, then please tell it to me straight, PPK. I would like to know how I can improve."

"Plus fifteen points." She says, smiling as she walks past me. "I was just here to pick up Spectre."

"You know, one thing I haven't asked about is if you two were together."

"My, Commander, I didn't know you were into—"

"You know what I meant, PPK." I say with a bit more force than intended before pausing. "Sorry, it's just that with how everything's been a blur, we haven't had the time to really all sit down and have a chat. I'm well aware most of you aren't military made, so when we get the chance, I'd like for all of us, all of the T-Dolls, to sit down and just let each other know our stories."

"I'm not sure what there is to say of any value, Commander." Spectre says, a bit of worry in her eye. "I am a very uninteresting Doll."

"I think every T-Doll's story is worth hearing. I'm not asking you to speak to your whole life's story, simply what you think is worth knowing. If there is anything you would ever like to discuss with me or bring to the group's knowledge, please feel free to."

"...of course, sir."

"With that, you two are dismissed."

After they leave through the door of the inn room I'm using a temporary office, I notice Agnes out of the corner of my eye. She gives a salute before I nod, with her visibly relaxing. "Enfield, anything to report?"

"I heard Gautier's expedition returned and came to check for additional orders." She says, expression not changing once. "I assume there's nothing?"

I shake my head. "Everything's clean so far. I'll take that blessing, I suppose."

"Take it while you can get it. We're just about at Saxe Gotha."

I take a look at the map of the region I was able to acquire that's hanging on the wall. Saxe Gotha… it's a pivotal part of the enemy defenses, as it's yet another port city. Taking it not only increases the amount of ports we have as a supply line, but it also decreases the enemy's effective radius of deploying airships.

It is… downright insane how much those can turn the tide in a battle. While we had airship to airship battles during our initial invasion to gain a foothold, during a land battle having an airship can dramatically shift the focus of a fight. However, resupplying them is the biggest trouble, giving them sort of an effective radius that they can operate in. If we take Saxe Gotha, then our airship operation space increases and theirs decreases, allowing us easier ground battles.

Granted, most of our air power is focused on keeping the supply line alive. Our enemy is doing roughly the same, except trying to break it. While they could attempt to swarm us on the land with airships, they do have their own operational space. We simply have to stay outside of their capacity to operate while importing more troops or bait them into overextending. In short, while our supply line is active, they're trapped on the island with us. But should it break, we're trapped on the island with them.

"We're not planning on going through the mountains, are we?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at the map.

"I don't think so, I haven't heard anything about that."

"I see, that's good. It would be a hell of a slog to make it through there."

Before either of us can say anything further, there's a knock on the door. Agnes glances at me as she draws her weapon as I move into an area you can't spot from the door.

"Who is it?" She asks, hand on the knob.

"It is a messenger from General Wimpffen for Commander Baker. Emergency summons."

Agnes slowly opens the door as I ready my own firearm, then somewhat relaxes. "State your message, then."

"He says it's a special mission, so please bring your squad to the _Majesty. _The passphrase to be brought up is _"Jubilant prudence"_."

"Understood. We'll be right there."

* * *

"You just had to open your mouth about the mountains." Agnes grumbles as we trek through the snow, having been given some snow gear to search. In order to signal where to extract, we were given a flare launcher, good for one use. Seems more like a firework based on how they described how it would signal them, but essentially Gautier's squad would be on standby to come in as soon as we launched this thing. Only real issue is that we're close enough to enemy territory that they'll come knocking.

Granted, this was only supposed to be used if we couldn't extract by foot. Hopefully that won't be the case.

"Sorry." I mutter, looking through the snowy forest. "Still though, I wish we could have some air guidance for this mission."

Gautier's squad had personally helped move us into position, but had to keep a low altitude. They dropped us off a fair bit up the mountain, but we were doing quite a bit of hiking.

"Can't risk the enemy knowing we're here." Agnes says back.

"You two get along quite well." PPK notes, her steps incredibly silent as we all glance around. "Hmhm."

"If there's something you want to say, PPK, I'm right here." Agnes fires back, but by the tone of her voice it seems to be just normal camaraderie.

"Well, back then, I know many a commander who had quite the relationship with their T-Dolls, is all I'm saying~"

"That was against official Griffin policy." I comment offhandedly, earning a giggle from PPK.

"My, what a boring reply. Not even a single fling?"

"I liked my job. It had good pay, decent benefits, and a very nice retirement package if you made it long enough. There was no reason for me to put that into any more jeopardy than I was already in by nature of the job." I say, looking back and finding Spectre unusually slow moving. "Spectre, is something wrong?"

"Sorry sir, it's just my leg… not used to the weight with it for hiking."

"Ah, I see. Alright, let's ease up on the pace. Not like we have to worry about enemy patrols here just yet." I say, moving back towards her.

The night continues to tick on by as we move through the mountains, snow crunching underneath our feet. Occasionally we pause, thinking we heard footsteps, but there don't seem to be any traces of the enemy at all despite this being a search and rescue. Especially considering the high value individuals we're looking for. Perhaps the enemy doesn't know that these are high value.

"Sir." Spectre says, getting my attention with a low whisper. "I'm picking up something up ahead, it's stationary."

"PPK, Springfield?"

"I can confirm that." Springfield says, with all of us slowing to a stop.

"Heads up, I spot a clearing." Agnes says, readying her musket.

"Everyone move into position. Let's take this nice and easy."

All of us scatter around, taking cover behind the trees. I slowly peek out from behind mine while laying prone, taking a look at the clearing. That's… even in the darkness, as my eyes have adjusted, the shape is easy enough. A plane, more specifically a World War Two fighter, a Zero fighter…! Now I can see why they were pretty hush-hush about it. This must have been linked to some kind of special operation much like the miracle they pulled off at our initial invasion.

"PPK, you're up. Clear the area, everyone watch for her."

"Moving out." PPK says, all teasing drained from her voice, replaced only with raw focus. She steps out, looking around before darting to a covered position by the Zero fighter. She mouths something, with Springfield nudging me to get my attention.

"PPK says she's spotted footprints. Two sets of them."

"Clear the general area, then let's follow them. Enfield."

"Sir?"

"I recognize the structure. It's a Zero fighter, which means that Hiraga Saito is here. Based on the other set of footprints I'm assuming it's like Miss Vallerie. I'm not sure why they didn't tell us, though."

"It was probably to safeguard that information. They don't know who could be listening and it was likely a covert mission." Agnes says, nodding. "If we do encounter him, how much do you want to tell him?"

"Let's just leave it as 'I managed to stumble my way into this world'. Technically not a lie and it won't implicate anyone. I want to be able to gain his trust as someone else who came from the outside, but we also need to keep ourselves guarded. As for the girls, let's keep on the down low."

"Understood. Leave the initial contact to me."

"I'm trusting you. Everyone else?"

"Copy that, sir."

Taking a few moments to make sure we're not walking into a trap. Looking around the general area, it looks like it was a crash landing, or at least it wasn't a pretty landing. No real damage done to the aircraft, so it doesn't seem like it was shot down. Must have had a malfunction in the skies, I assume, or that flying over the mountains must've taken its toll considering how it seems to have started snowing.

If Hiraga was flying this thing, he was pretty crazy to make a belly landing. But considering how the snow or the rough terrain probably wouldn't have made a wheels down landing any easier, probably for the best.

A quick check also confirms that if they had any belongings with them in the cockpit, they took them with them. Afterwards, we then move as a squad to follow the tracks, the snow starting to really come down. No one yet…

"Cave up ahead."

"PPK, Spectre, take point. Clear the hole."

The duo glance at each other before silently moving up ahead, creeping through the cave. We slowly follow behind them, Agnes watching our six. It's a pretty spacious cave, all things considered. Probably not the best idea to be firing guns in here, but we don't exactly have too much of a choice. It's large enough in here where it shouldn't be too bad, anyways.

"Sir." PPK whispers, coming to a stop. "I spot one figure waiting around the corner. Orders?"

"Enfield, take point. PPK, cover her. Springfield, Spectre, cover the rear."

Agnes steadily moves ahead, still keeping her gun trained down the cave just in case.

"Saito, this is Agnes. If you need proof it's me, I can tell you what I did with Louise in order to avoid detection on that rainy day."

I hear something that sounds like an embarrassed male cry as Agnes smirks, but keeps her guard up.

"So, if you don't want me spilling the details, please come forward and don't attack my comrades."

A figure then emerges from around the corner, holding onto a lantern and sword. He's, at best, just like what Professor Colbert told me, not even seventeen. I'd estimate sixteen, actually. He's dressed in a blue windbreaker with a hood, though underneath there seems to be some additional cloth for padding, likely to deal with the altitude he was flying at, and his black hair is ruffled and starting to frost.

"I knew I'd recognize that icy voice anywhere!" He says, putting on a smile that reaches his brown eyes. "But um, you shouldn't mention that."

"Is Louise with you?"

"She's resting in the back of the cave." He says, turning around. "Are you here to rescue us?"

"Something like that. Commander, your orders?"

"Snow's starting to pick up outside, so we'll wait for the weather to clear. Best to stay the night and keep watch to see when we can get an open window. As far as I know, at least one member of Gautier's squad is keeping watch for the flare. So team, into the cave."

The cave itself is nothing more than dull greys and the slight cold blue hue. In the small opening which looks somewhat like a domed room of sorts is a small fire, just enough to keep warm. There, what could only be described as a pink haired child, wrapped in blankets, is sleeping on the ground.

"Enfield, vitals check. I trust him, but I'd like for you to make sure."

"Understood, sir."

"Any additional snow gear, son?" I ask as PPK sets down our own lantern to illuminate more of the cave. He shakes his head. "Well, we brought some extras in case. Help yourself to it."

I hold out the bag that we were given, which contained an extra snow jacket for both of them, with Agnes taking the one for Louise to help wrap it around her.

"She's breathing, I'll keep checking on her, though. Probably just tired."

"We'll wake her up when we finish preparing a meal for you two. She'll need to keep her strength up through the night." I say, getting a nod back from Agnes. "Ah, and uh, I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting yet, Hiraga Saito, was what I believe Professor Colbert called you. I had the pleasure of meeting him and he's written a letter of introduction for us."

I then hand him the letter, which I've kept in my jacket. No reason not to keep it on me at all times, I suppose, and knowing I could encounter him at any time… well, good reason to keep it on me.

"He's a good man. Well read and to be respected."

"It'd be pretty hard to find someone who didn't think that." He says, taking it. I notice Agnes pause in the background, but Hiraga doesn't seem to notice it. "But Agnes, I thought that the Musketeer Corp were all women, plus you're calling him 'Commander'."

"War happens, things change, life comes at you fast. Pick one." Agnes says, standing up from checking on Louise.

"Then who is he? I can understand the others, but they're not even dressed in uniform."

"He's… well, I guess he's like you, in a way. Stumbled into this world, somehow." Agnes says, her usually unreadable expression returning. "He seems to know a lot about tactics using guns, so when we found him, I decided he could help us. Due to some structural reorganizing, he's now commanding us. As for the uniforms, well, they're a rowdy bunch."

Hiraga looks to me and I nod in return. "Commander Oliver Penn Baker, leading the GK Team. Pleasure to meet you. I've heard a quite a lot about you from the crown princess. You're quite the hero, son."

He scratches his cheek, looking a bit bashful at being called a hero. "I wouldn't say that. Louise is the one doing the heavy lifting, you know?"

I wonder if it's his natural personality or if it's the runes I know are affecting his mind that say that, but I decide it's smarter not to bring it up. The less he thinks I know, the better.

"Well, regardless, choosing to stay with her and not run is commendable on its own. I only wish you were older."

"Huh?"

"Do not take this as me looking down upon you, but I dislike the idea of sending children into battle. If you are like me and come from the outside, I think we're both well aware that the idea of child soldiers is heavily disapproved."

"Must be nice." Agnes says from the side, sitting against the wall. "What age would you be fine with them fighting?"

"Our enlisting age was eighteen years."

"By that point, someone would've graduated either the magic academies if they were a noble, be halfway through their squireship on their way to knighthood, became an adventurer, or stayed working."

"There's no schooling?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Only nobles can afford such a thing. Of course, most people are learning how to read, but their formal education is a different story."

"I see." I say, deciding to leave my comments on it for later.

"I can make a suggestion to Hen—er, the princess later." Hiraga says, a bigger smile on his face. It seems he's rather close with the princess. Ah, but she did stammer before, when I asked what she thought of him. I wonder if there's any mutual attraction on their part, but it's otherwise dampened by the familiar runes.

"I would be thankful if you did so. Anyways, Springfield, take first guard for tonight, followed by me, PPK, Spectre, then Enfield. Sound good?"

"Yes, sir." Springfield says, saluting before she heads for the cave entrance.

"Um, Commander Baker, I have a question." Hiraga asks as I begin setting up my sleeping bag.

"Go ahead."

"Why do you call them weapon names?"

I think about it for a second. I suppose bringing the Zero fighter here somehow indicates whatever magic, and I assume it's magic, is pulling things from Earth to Halkeginia, its reach also spans time. There's no reason to assume that Hiraga is from a time period similar to my own.

"First, I must say, I am impressed with your knowledge of weaponry." I say, a somewhat subdued but proud smile coming to my face. While I am against children fighting in war, some of these weapons can be considered historical, so it's rather—

"Every guy plays first person shooters sometime in their life. If you play enough of them, you'll recognize the weapon names." Hiraga says with such an earnest and honest look on his face.

I open my mouth to say something in reply, but nothing comes out. I close my mouth, blink twice, raise my finger as if to say something, but again say nothing, and then put my hand back down.

"...I suppose you are correct." I say, trying to hide my disappointment. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I can see PPK and Spectre turn away, the latter clearly trying not to be seen smiling while the former doesn't even make an attempt to beguile her amusement.

"Do they also know what first person shooters are? They reacted, after all." Hiraga asks, pointing at PPK and Spectre. "They also have modern firearms, I can see it, too."

I look to Agnes, who shrugs. "They've been trained in their usage. It's just fortunate that I found them and those weapons. I'm not a marksman myself, but I'm fairly versed in tactics, so I defer to them. Also hey, PPK, if you got time to laugh at whatever this 'first person shooter' is, you got time to set up."

"My apologies Commander, but it's rare to see you quite flustered~ I am not quite familiar with this 'first person shooter', however, though I will be sure to _thoroughly_ ask you later, Commander."

It's probably for the best I stick to half truths for now to protect them. Also damn you PPK, but also thanks for covering for me. And I'm well aware she knows I'm irritated but content, with that knowing smirk on her face.

"Agnes picked them up herself, right?"

"I pick up strays every now and then, if they show promise, yes."

"But, just in case they do have a past they're getting away from, I call them by their codenames as T-Dolls." I say, watching his reaction. It seems mostly genuine when he nods, nor does he react to the term 'T-Doll'. "In order to safeguard their identity, they are given these names, so that no one can trace back who they are and threaten their loved ones."

"Oh, I see. But wait, is Agnes her real name or…?"

"I don't mind being called by my real name since I don't have anyone who could be used to threaten me, but because we are a squad, I took on the name Enfield when Oliver brought it up."

I make a mental note that after the war, I should ask Agnes to go visit her hometown. It may yet be possible to recover Enfield's weapon and confirm the status of the T-Doll there. Her memory banks might have been preserved, which could help figure out just what else is here. But most importantly, I think it might help Agnes get some closure.

"Regardless of all that, let's not stay up too late. I'm sure we both have a lot of things we'd like to talk about, with us being from the outside, but let's do so when we're not in the middle of hostile territory, shall we? There'll be plenty of time for talking when we get back."

"Assuming we aren't pushed straight into the invasion of Saxe Gotha. I don't know what the higher ups were planning on, but with how we were moving out, it definitely seems like we're moving there. Still, get some sleep, Saito. Thanks for making me take guard last too, Commander. I don't want to get woken up by Vallerie's complaining."

"Hey, Agnes…!"

"Oh, right. Do me a favor and don't tell her I said that, will you, Saito?" Agnes says, a still impassive look on her face.

"When you say it like that, I kinda don't want to."

Agnes only shrugs. "Either way, it's going to be a long morning. Get some rest, we'll need you at your tiptop shape tomorrow."

* * *

"Holding up okay?"

"Commander, you should take your own advice and rest." Spectre says as I sit down by our little hidden cranny that watches the entrance of the cave from the inside. "When we use the signal tomorrow, you'll need to be operating at optimal capacity."

Speaking of the signal, we decided during our late night meal we'd use it since finding the Zero fighter if we left it behind warranted several risks. Mainly, we had no idea if there were enemy search teams that would discover it first and take it back with them before we safely returned. Second, it would be hard to find this thing again while flying in the sky. So, best option to not only return Hiraga and Vallerie but also prevent technology from falling into enemy hands was to use it.

"And so will you." I say back, Spectre not having anything to say in return. "You've seemed a bit distracted today. Care to share?"

She snorts ever so lightly. "I thought, Commander, we were to come to you."

"I never said you had to share. Sorry for being pushy."

"It's… fine." She says, turning her head back to look outside. "It's just hard to trust you, Commander."

"You seem to have no problems with me risking your life when in the line of fire." I note.

"It is one thing to trust in the tactics and orders given, it is another to trust someone as a person."

"They are often intertwined, though." I say, Spectre nodding. "I assume you trust me in the former regard and not the latter. Understandable."

"You seem to take that in stride."

"It's… a tale I'd rather not talk about, but I don't mind sharing it with you, if it'd help."

"I don't know if it would."

"Then, on the chance it would." I say, looking out to the entrance of the cave. "Well, the short of it is that there's a good reason I try to stick to the official Griffin policy. I know firsthand what happens when you don't."

"You were punished for it?"

"...not by Griffin, but I suppose life comes at you fast." I say, shaking my head. "You could say I had a nasty fall from grace after losing my squads, lost nearly everything. I got too attached, as it were. Clouded my judgment. Made me… not perhaps as open as I should have. Fortunately I had someone there who helped me recover but, I'll never quite return to who I was."

"And who were you before?"

"A lot… nicer, for one." I say, snorting. "After losing it all, I withdrew a bit. Never reached out so much."

"You're reaching out quite a lot, though."

"I was retired for some time and I can afford that here. It's a bit presumptuous, but the SF are a step above mages here and well above normal folk. Springfield could probably take a town by herself if need be, just by the fact she's faster, stronger, and more accurate than footsoldiers of this era. A hundred of them against her? They wouldn't stand a chance. But if I put Springfield alone against thirty SF units? Definitely not, that'd be suicide depending on what it was. So, it's… I don't feel so afraid that there'll come an operation that I will never see you again. And if there is one, it'll be far and few between. It won't be that every mission could be the last we ever have together."

"I see. Commander, I have a question."

"Go ahead, Spectre, you don't need to ask permission to ask it."

"When you say you 'lost everything', can you clarify what that meant?"

"Ah, I've told Springfield about it too, but I think you all are quite familiar with my stance regarding T-Dolls in general." Spectre nods, prompting me to go forward. "Well, it goes a bit further than that. Seeing them as people to the point I tried to transfer any T-Dolls that looked like children off of my base."

"There aren't that many, from what I remember."

"There was only one exception I made, but it was only due to a personal request of my adjutant and after much argument." I say, leaning back against the wall. "But yes, it's like that. And before you ask, they were successful in uploading their neural clouds, so they could be preserved. It's just… how can I put this…?"

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize for anything, Spectre." I say, glancing over at her. I bite my lips, finding she's already hanging her head down low and closing her eyes, as if anticipating me to take action.

As I put my hand to her chin to lift it up, I can feel her tense up. She's expecting something. My God, please don't let it be what I think it is.

"Please open your eyes, Spectre."

"May I… make a request, Commander?" She asks, trembling.

"You are always welcome to."

"May I… hold your wrists?"

"Go ahead."

Spectre slowly opens her eyes, keeping her head down, as I move my hands to where she can see them. She slowly takes hold of my wrists, locking me into place. I'm getting a bad feeling about what she went through, but my mind is wandering. It couldn't have been the commander doing this, he'd probably break his hand trying. So...

"I will temporarily suspend my Anti-Hu—"

"Denied. I trust you."

"You put… far too much trust in people, Commander. Having the Sangvis as your only enemy for years surely has messed with your head."

"Well… I certainly will admit all my time working for Griffin has changed me, but I think that even before then, I had a good knack of who I could and couldn't trust. Are you comfortable, now?"

"...yes."

"Then, I will continue. You do not need to apologize for anything, Spectre. Even though I treat humans and T-Dolls as if they were one and the same, it will never erase that there are definite differences between us. Humans have a long history of philosophy and existential wonder, the pursuit of the metaphysical, so it's entirely possible that while you may understand what humans refer to as the 'soul', it may be difficult to comprehend what the 'soul' feels like."

"That… would be the case, Commander."

"You do not need to apologize for who or what you are, Spectre. If anything, due to my beliefs, I should be more aware of this fact and have anticipated explaining things differently, so the fault lies with me."

"You like to shoulder the blame for others, don't you?"

"I find that if I offer to shoulder the burden, then others will follow suit. Far better is it that we come to work on solving an issue together than us spending time debating who is truly at fault." I say, continuing to look down at my held wrists. "But how should I word this…

"...while they were able to upload their neural clouds, it's like… imagine the gun you were issued. It's been with you through thick and thin. You know it like the back of your hand. But then you lose it in the middle of a mission and have to get it replaced. A new, freshly minted one. But it feels off. So, they retrace your memories—engrave, chip, and simulate all the damage it's ever taken, down to the very last scratch. The gun feels the exact same as right before you lost it, in every which way, but for me… it would somehow, in the back of my head, register as different."

"Objectively speaking, they are different."

"Quite. But give or take a few missions and that feeling should go away, right? For most people, they wouldn't pay it any more attention. For me, it'd bug me every day, that they're different. And since you recognize that they're different, I would say—the gun in that example is how I feel about T-Dolls."

"...and because you see them as people, you can't accept that they're the same person." She says, following through.

"Correct."

"May I ask a follow up question, sir?"

"Go ahead."

"What happened after you lost everything?"

"A good question, that is a good place to start, after all. Seeing my lost squad replaced like that, it… cut deep. It was as if everyone I knew was replaced by different people wearing their faces, their mannerisms, and yet despite being different, claimed to be the exact same. Memories that didn't belong to 'them' made them look up to me, the like. So ultimately—"

I can feel Spectre's hands tense around my wrists, as she likely knows I'm about to say what I did. It's okay, you have nothing to fear from me.

"—drove them away, becoming cold and distant to them. It must have hurt. To have someone who you have known for years, someone who has cherished you suddenly put a wall between you with seemingly no reason for it must have been crushing. No, I'm sure they knew, because my viewpoint on Dolls was well known in my base. They must've known that in my eyes, they were only imitations of what once was. There are no excuses to be made on my end. I was grieving, yes, but I should have known better, or at least opened up communication. I should've been a better commander and stepped up. Instead, I remained complacent in my silence."

"That is all?"

"That is all."

"You never once lashed out?"

"How could I? Even if I was struggling to sort out just what they were to me, there's no way I could ever raise my hand against them. I suppose at the end of day, part of me still wanted to recognize those girls as _my_ girls returned to life, wanting to pretend like they weren't all blown away, and just be happy everyone made it home in a manner of speaking."

"I see."

"I must be quite terrible at comforting people, is what I assume you're thinking."

"I believe you have already created an image of what has happened to me, and while I have no intention of correcting you at this time, Commander, if our visions align in the slightest, then yes."

"I've been told that quite a lot. I figured that I would tell you the truth than feed you sweet lies. It wouldn't sit well with me otherwise."

"You do a lot of things because they 'feel right', don't you?" Spectre asks, looking down at my still bound hands.

"Sometimes it gets me in trouble, sometimes it's saved me. But at the end of the day, I can rest somewhat easy, knowing I tried to do the right thing. Sometimes orders go against that, so you take what you can get. It's all we can do in the world, after all. Fight, day by day, doing what we think is right, both in the context of now and in the future."

Spectre quietly nods at that.

"I don't know what battle you're fighting, Spectre, but rest assured. If you ever need someone to point the way, that is my job as your commander, no matter what battlefield you are on. Whether it is out here—" I gesture outside to the snowy mountains. "—in here—" I point to my head. "—or in here." I finish, pointing to my heart.

"...thank you, sir. I have one final question."

"Yes, Spectre?"

"What makes a useful T-Doll?"

I frown, knowing a lot hinges on the answer to this question. I surely could come up with something that would comfort her, but if I have based my relationship off of truthfulness, then I need to be honest. "That you come home safely."

"Even if they fail the objective?"

"You can't win every fight. Sometimes we do win, and we take those. But what you can do is come home, to a base that knows every day could be your last, and is just happy to have you back. To me, absolute victory means we all made it home. And if you're coming home, then you can rest assured you are useful."

"I see. Thank you for indulging me, sir."

"Any time, Spectre. I'm glad we had this talk."

"Er… Commander, one last question."

"Go ahead."

"...should I keep this a secret?"

I shake my head. "Do what you will with this information. Whether or not you tell the others is up to you. I may come to regret not telling them myself, but I think I can trust you."

"Understood."

Spectre doesn't say anything else as I get up, dusting myself off and walking into the depths of the cave.

As I make my way back, I find Agnes waiting around the bend, holding a lantern.

"I see you're still up, Enfield."

"I heard some noise, saw you weren't in your sleeping bag. Found out you were having a nice chat. Of course, it's just about my time to take the guard." She says, lowering the lantern. "I figured it was a good time to talk alone, as well. It's about Saito."

"I see. What do you have to tell me?"

Agnes runs me through the gist of information that she got from Henrietta, who was trying to keep it under wraps as much as possible. However, upon noticing that I seemed to be trying to keep him off the battlefield, she did tell me that according to Henrietta, Hiraga was "Gandalfr", a legendary familiar. Quite literally spelled, according to this translation magic still on me, Gandalf as in the one from _The Lord of the Rings_ with an 'r' attached to the end. One who could master anything made to be a weapon by a single touch. What an incredible power… it certainly explains why he was able to fly a plane and why Professor Colbert was evasive about telling me.

If he were older, I would've asked to have him transferred to my squad. A close range champion, but also able to master firearms would make him the perfect wildcard for any situation.

Agnes avoided telling me because the less people knew, the better. It'd be a trump card, after all, to deploy him, and if the enemy knew about him, they'd be liable to target him. Same thing for Louise; few people actually knew of her presence in the army and thus we'd likely be instructed to keep everything we saw here to ourselves.

I briefly wondered if his knowledge could be used to repair Spectre, but Agnes said that the legends were to master a weapon's usage. Even if the 'made to be a weapon' applied to Spectre, how he was going to 'use' Spectre would be what he was given, not necessarily the knowledge to repair her. It was worth a shot later, though, and if it worked, it'd be a miracle.

"By the way, while Saito might take to you, I'm not sure if Lady Vallerie is going to. She's got a thing for… not liking commoners. I'm sure you understand."

"Don't I…" I mutter, shaking my head. "You seem to know them, so I'm entrusting their safety to you. If Vallerie listens to you, that's all I care about."

"Understood, sir. They'll make it out. But, a word of caution."

"Yes?"

"Don't try to see Saito as a protectorate. I've heard of what he's done and what he's capable of. He and Louise infiltrated this island a long time ago in order to extract a VIP and he's gone toe to toe with high level mages."

"Even if you tell me that, it still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth."

"This isn't your home, Commander. You should field him tomorrow. We're all more likely to make it out alive if you do."

I sigh, shaking my head. "I suppose that's true, but I'm going to dislike it the whole way. I'd rather not have the guilt of having sent a teenager to die on the battlefield."

"Well, it's war."

In a way, this war was less gruesome than fighting the hordes of Sangvis. But in other ways, it was just the opposite. There were plenty of horrors when fighting the Sangvis. Every day, every mission, a new box of nightmares waiting to be opened. But I suppose that human casualties weren't high. T-Dolls lost their lives, but could be backed up and rebuilt for those that saw them as expendable. There were oddballs like me, but it didn't change how the world wasn't running red rivers of blood when we were fighting.

While the horrors of duking it out with the Sangvis have certainly helped me stave off all of the killing here, killing actual living, breathing humans, it's not like that's going to help when it comes to children. I tried not to keep any T-Dolls that bore resemblances to children on my base, after all. A quirk, some might call it, but due to my results with my top teams, I was able to disguise it as simply not wanting to have my squads potentially dragged down. A fortune I don't have here.

"I know. I'll figure it out."

"I know you will, but just wanted to make sure."

"Thanks. Let's go rest for now, we've got a long morning ahead of us, after all."

* * *

"Ready?" I ask, looking around the perimeter. Due to Agnes' recommendation, I have fielded Hiraga, but asked him not to do anything too drastic. Agnes gave him her backup pistol as well, which he is currently wielding. Based on his stance and grip, even PPK privately asked me if he had wielded a gun before, and it was surprising if he had. I said I'll explain it later and she dropped it, but it appears that for a handgun wielding T-Doll, it sticks out.

"Springfield, ready."

"PPK, always ready for you, Commander~"

"Spectre, set."

"Enfield, ready."

"Hiraga?" I ask.

"R-ready, sir!"

"You don't need to sir me. Now then, Lady Vallerie," I say to the pink haired girl who is watching me with a sharp eye. She's short, especially so for a fifteen or sixteen year old, still dressed in her Academy's uniform surprisingly. That pink hair of hers matched Karin Desiree de la Vallerie, but the differences between them couldn't be any more apparent. The girl in front of us lacked the aura of restraint and majesty. But it could be excused, she was likely a girl finding her wings, "please keep your head down. I wouldn't want you to get injured in the crossfire."

That of course, was because we had her stow away in the Zero fighter. It's the best place for her to take shelter while we duke it out in the open area. She could hide in the cave, but if we push the enemy back they might find her there, so if we posted a guard it would lessen our firepower. Hiding in the forest could work, but again, we need eyes on her.

The Zero fighter is relatively well armored, at least, compared to anything we can give her, and she can hide by putting a blanket on top of her. The enemy should be more worried about dealing with us, plus it's difficult to retrieve the fighter, so it's unlikely they'll touch it. The only issue is if we're forced to retreat, but hopefully that won't be the case. We can't afford to lose the fighter, after all.

"Don't worry, Louise. I'll protect you." Hiraga says with an air of confidence.

"H-hmph, it's not like I was asking you to!" She says, huffing as she hunkers down in the cockpit. Hiraga then instructs her on how to close the canopy, but also how to reopen it in case of an emergency.

But, the tone of those words… ah, I know where I've heard them before. I got the same feeling from a rather prickly WA2000 T-Doll I had the… _pleasure_ of being acquainted with when meeting with another commander, back in the day. He was a bit dense, so I can only hope that WA2000 was able to be honest with him.

"Alright. Deploying the signal in ten seconds. Everyone ready up, this is going to alert our allies but the enemy may send scouts to investigate. Be on your guard and keep your eyes peeled. Mission begin in three seconds."

* * *

**Wowwee that took a while, I actually wrote this chapter 3 times because the previous two didn't sit well with me. It took the third time for me to actually get that Spectre scene feeling right.**

**Also you can blame Blade and Sorcery for why this is out super late as well lmao. Okay and DCS World, too.**

**Anyways, yeah, fun chapter. I thought that I could start lifting the veil on Oliver's backstory. Not a lot specifically, as I intentionally left quite a lot of it vague, but we got two of his "A-team" members and a glimpse into just what Oliver lost along with what drove him. I think I could've kept it a bit more hidden for a while, but I think placing it here considering what I sort of have plannedish is okay, too.**

**A lot of Spectre focus as well, but I think she's probably the easiest to build some progression for her with her situation. I have some plans, but low key I want you guys all to know that like 95% of this is written by the seat of my pants. Springfield has something saved for later, though.**

**Either way, I think there was enough that it you can draw conclusions about what Spectre went through. My other real struggle with this chapter was what to do with Saito. I know I wanted Oliver to run into him, but having their interaction be clouded by Oliver hiding things from him made it rough. Ultimately they chatted for a bit, but I saved any of Louise's lines for next chapter since trying to figure out where I want Louise to be in terms of any character development is a bit tough.**

**Overall I don't think I want Saito to become like, a major part of the story, but since I've included him, it feels wrong to think that he won't brush up against Oliver every now and then. Guess that'll just be something I play by ear.**

**Anyways, thanks for reading! It was a longer chapter than normal, haha, so I hope that made up for the long break. I kind of fell out of love with GFL which made me lose motivation for this story, but I think playing some DCS World and Ace Combat livened me back up to writing again. Also you can blame those two for their aerial segments before, since god**_**damn**_** I love a nice dogfight. Need to really learn how to use the F15-C though, or at least, beyond the basics.**

**Let me know what you all think; catch you guys next time!**

**Ninja Edit v1.1: Thanks to Alaxbird, I realized that the phrasing Oliver uses is confusing when referring to the Zero as "relatively well armored". I meant to have him describe it in terms relative to what cover they had available, but it comes off as Oliver mentioning the plane itself is decently armored which is not the case.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: **Sitting Duck

* * *

We all hold our breaths, taking shelter under the trees and the plane as we continue to watch the skies for any changes. It should be at least half an hour until extraction, so we're about halfway there.

God, I really miss live communications now. I'd love it if I could radio into home base and let them know our coordinates for extraction rather than this unreliable method.

"Eyes up." PPK says, everyone snapping to attention. "Springfield, I'm not seeing phantoms, am I?"

"Those aren't phantom dots." Springfield says, nodding. "Commander, I'm picking up some movement. Coming from the direction of Saxe Gotha. Coming in fast and high."

"Alright, look alive!" I shout, everyone having their grips on their weapons. "Enemy air, incoming!"

"If those are dragon knights, they'll come down to investigate. I recommend we wait for an ambush." Agnes says from her position, hidden in the bushes.

"What are we going to do about the dragons? Those things are tanky as hell, aren't they?"

"I can handle them." Hiraga says. "My sword can take them on."

"...I see." I say, nodding. "Copy that. All units, do not engage, wait for them to come in closer. We'll ambush them as they land on the ground."

The sound of swooping wings comes ever closer. As I peer around from just behind the tree, I see how the dragons knights can land somewhat vertically. It's definitely easier to land like a plane, but if need be they can even hover.

Silently, I gesture towards targets and who will target them. Afterwards, I hold my hand out, denoting a five second countdown. Four. Three. Two. One.

Clenching my fist, I then hear the echoes of gunfire. Each of them taking one kill, that's four dragon riders done in just like that. As the dragons roar in surprise, Hiraga charges in to deal with them, sword drawn.

Just what the hell is that speed… even SMG T-Dolls would have killed for that kind of agility.

I shake it off, knowing there's a better time to be considering this. "Reload, reload, they know we're here, spread out!"

Fanning out from our positions, everyone continues to reload while keeping behind cover. In the midst of the confusion, Hiraga continues to dance with the dragons, evading their bites before slashing with a strike right across their unarmored bellies.

"Those things die easy?" I ask as Agnes shoots down another landing rider, the bullet piercing right through his chest.

"Dragons? Hell no, but if you can kill the rider, it's a hell of a lot easier since it lacks the control of a human behind it. Much more like dealing with a wild animal!"

"Any chance to drive it off?"

"They'll still retreat if they get injured, they're smarter than most creatures. Besides, they have a real knack for being as prideful as their pilots; they won't die here. Let Hiraga deal with the dragons, we need to pick off the riders."

I decide not to ask why a _wild_ dragon is any less dangerous, but decide that I'd rather take my chances with a wild dog that I could scare off rather than a dog that is being told and has been trained to kill on command.

The echoes of gunfire continue on as we continuously shoot down the riders, but eventually they get smarter and start doing strafing runs, raining down blasts of wind that send snow into the air, obscuring everyone's vision. Then again, we need a precise shot; with their magic, they only need to hit in the general vicinity.

"Springfield, take aim, fire at your discretion!" I say, denoting the use of her special firing protocols. "PPK, use it!"

"Copy that, sir! Taking aim!"

"Of course, Commander~"

If only Agnes could benefit from it, but at the very least it'll make Springfield's single shot really count. Combining Springfield's special firing protocol with PPK's ability to temporarily form a short-range communication link between all T-Dolls in the vicinity, allowing her to take on some of their computational load, which in turn allows the Dolls she's supporting more computational power to calculate a more devastating shot—it means that Springfield might even be able to nail a dragon kill outright. Not to mention that it means Spectre's shots are going to hit harder as well.

"And… please rest."

Springfield's calm words precede a blast from her issued musket, piercing right through an airborne dragon that was coming in for another blasting run where its scales didn't cover. Whether or not it was killed with that single shot, it was enough that the dragon and its riders suddenly veered off course, crashing into another rider and causing a chain reaction that knocked out a total of four riders, several of whom hit the treeline before sliding to the ground.

Off to the side, Spectre has been supporting Agnes, the pile of fallen riders starting to rise around them. So far, at least twelve downed.

"Sir!" Spectre yells, rolling out of the way from a wind spell heading her way, struggling to recover as she manages to scuffle her way behind a tree for cover. "Sir, look out! Seven o'clock!"

I turn around, expecting to see an enemy, but instead it's a tree that must've been hit by a stray spell collapsing. Oh shi—

My mind shoots into overdrive, attempting to figure out which way it's falling and whether or not I can make it in time. I spot another tree close enough to me and dive for it, hearing the creaking and snapping of wood right before an impact to my left.

"Dolls, check in!"

"Springfield, engaged!"

"PPK, lovingly engaging!"

"Enfield, firing!"

"Spectre, all clear!"

"Copy that, continue firing!" I yell, pushing myself up as I look to the skies, noticing some of them are flying past without strafing. There might… got it. "All units, be advised, we've got incoming from another angle, don't know where the clearing is, but it seems they've found one! Mop up these fliers quickly before we get flanked and watch the trees!"

"Commander, where are you taking cover?!" Springfield yells out, sniping off another rider before he can buzz us.

"I'll protect him." Spectre says, determination evident in her voice. "Commander, please stay behind me."

"...understood. Thank you, Spectre."

We move, just to the edge of the treeline, so we're covered from the aerial attacks but still have enough buffer space to give us enough time to spot enemies moving in the trees. The firing of guns never stops, but the lack of spells being launched towards us is worrying. They're just buying time.

"Springfield, take aim!"

"Understood, sir!"

"Hold fire until it's ready each time, we need to make those shots count! PPK, time it with Springfield!"

"Of course, sir~"

"Oi, Commander, I spot movement in the trees!" Agnes shouts.

"Enfield, Spectre, cover Springfield!"

"Sir, you—"

"—will be fine, I trust you!"

"Lots of incoming, must've had their other fliers carry them around, I see fliers returning!" Agnes yells, looking up at the sky. I confirm that another wave of fliers is inbound. Damn…!

"PPK, Spectre, I'm authorizing use of your other firearms, at your discretion!"

"Sir?!" Spectre asks, turning her head around to face me. "There aren't too many of them!"

"We're protecting VIPs and we are unable to retreat. Don't be wasteful with it, is all I'm saying!"

"Understood, sir!"

The sound of gunfire shifts rapidly, now including a mix of the pistol and submachine gun, the latter of the two firing in incredibly short, controlled bursts as Spectre makes every shot count. Out of the corner of my eye, I keep watch on Saito, who has less to contend, but continues to fend off the dragons with his sword almost like a hero out of fiction.

Springfield's firing rate slows down considerably as she waits for her Designated Shot firing protocol to be ready as to avoid straining her hardware. Overall, we seem to be holding our own.

"I got another batch of fliers!"

Goddammit!

"Direction?!" I yell out as Springfield takes another shot, downing another flier's dragon and by extension, the flier who crashes into the ground, where a shot from Agnes eliminates him for good.

"Coming from the direction of our site!"

"Could be—"

I don't need to finish the rest of my sentence as the formation of enemy fliers that was coming in for another attack run breaks hard, a pair of high speed fliers having charged straight through their element before pulling what must be a high G turn to come back around and start attacking. Only one squad would be here, after all.

"Leave the air to Gautier! GK Squad, focus fire on enemy ground! Spectre, PPK, discontinue weapon usage and switch back to standard weaponry!"

"Copy that, sir!"

Just like that, with the arrival of air power, the tide of the battle shifts immensely. Without having air blasts raining down on us or worrying too much about stray shots downing trees, we can focus on taking out the light infantry sent to flank us.

"Sir, behind you!"

One of them must've snuck up using the woods and crawling on the ground, but thanks to Spectre's warning, I manage to turn around and begin backpedalling, buying me some crucial time to change up my footing to prepare for close range. He swipes high for my neck with his right hand, which I duck under and rise up for an uppercut, staggering him.

With him stunned, I sweep his feet from underneath him and as soon as he hits the ground, stomp on his right hand to force him to drop the knife, followed by a point blank shot to the chest.

"Springfield, status?" I ask, my heart still beating at an accelerated rate as I confirm he's not moving.

"I can see movement, but it's all matching up to the skies. Not seeing any more ground movement."

I sigh, nodding. "Form up, let's regroup."

"Impressive, though." Agnes says, looking around as everyone forms up on me. "Didn't know you had experience in close quarters."

"Even if we were commanders, we still had to go through training. It obviously wouldn't help against the foes we were fighting, but it helped us understand what the people we were commanding went through." I say, looking up at the sky before looking around for Hiraga. He waves, having taken cover underneath the Zero fighter. "Alright, let's get prepped for Gautier's approach when they mop up the skies. Stay on your toes, we don't know if they'll be back."

* * *

After a lengthy ride back, or perhaps it was only lengthy due to taking a bit of time properly loading up the plane for extraction, we all report directly to General Wimpffen, who looks relieved we're all back.

"Well Commander, it seems the princess was right to put her hopes onto you." He says, chuckling. He's an older man, I would say perhaps around Gautier's age, his hairs already greyed out. He's a bit bulkier compared to our aerial gentleman though, so I estimate he was also a more accomplished swordsman or fighter rather than a pilot.

"Um, excuse me, General." Vallerie says, her tone rather respectful for once. "But can you explain what you mean by _the princess was right_?"

Ah, there it is. The very hostile, "I'm a noble so please _kindly_ do what I ask-but-really-demand of you" kind of tone I was expecting to hear.

"Oh, I suppose you two wouldn't be acquainted. You have been working separately, after all." General Wimpffen says, nodding. "Miss Vallerie, Commander Baker. He's in charge of the GK Team, and as I hear from the princess herself, an elite team within the Royal Musketeers. Again, Commander, I have to say you do get results."

"I'll have to forward your thanks to Spectre and Springfield, who could not be present as they are assisting with the offloading of the cargo." I say back. "And I could not have done it without Enfield and PPK here."

He looks over the other two who have joined me, giving yet another nod to acknowledge them. They each salute in response.

"But yes, Miss Vallerie, the princess herself said that whatever we told the commander here to accomplish, he would find a way to get it done. He's already assisted with several internal efforts that I'm not at liberty to speak of, but rest assured that Her Majesty's faith in him is not misplaced."

"I _see_."

"Speaking of Her Majesty, Commander. A package for you bearing her seal has come in. I thought I'd deliver it to you myself while you debriefed."

"Thank you, sir."

"Get some rest, all of you. Judging by what has occurred in the last twenty four hours, a ground invasion of Saxe Gotha will be inevitable. Commander, if you don't mind, while there are several other high ranking officers who disagree due to your lack of nobility, I would like you on the siege planning meeting at eighteen hundred hours. I'll send a messenger to your room with details."

"Yes, sir." I say, saluting.

After we're dismissed, I'm given the letter and choose to return to my quarters, with Agnes heading off to check in on Springfield and Spectre. However, it seems I am being followed.

"Shall I… discourage them, Commander~?" PPK asks as she leans in, whispering.

"Well, we can always have them improve in their tailing ability. Split left at this coming intersection, I'll make a left at the one after that. Catch them after they pass"

"Don't get into too much trouble while I'm away." She says, pulling back and resuming a normal walking pace. At the intersection, PPK breaks left. I don't look to where she's going, as if to make this as natural as possible. It seems they're both still following me, though.

I round the corner and keep going, keep being followed, and pass where PPK should be hiding. To not tip my stalkers off, I pass by without so much as a glance and pick the pace up by stretching out my strides. I can hear somewhat hurried footsteps, with them liking not wanting to lose me.

A few seconds later, I hear a pair of surprised yelps and turn around, finding PPK hugging both Vallerie and Hiraga from behind, an arm around each of them.

"My, my, Commander. It seems you have some people rather interested in you." She says with a knowing smile. "Whatever shall I do with them?"

"Is there any particular reason you two have been following me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "I can understand your suspicions of me, but considering how I explained my circumstances on the mountain, I didn't think it would be that alarming."

"T… that doesn't mean you aren't plotting something! And who are you to get so close to the princess like that!" The pink-haired girl shouts.

Ah, so this is what it's all about. I suppose she would be protective about her friend.

"First, PPK, let them go. Second, I don't know what proof I can offer that will assuage your worries, other than Agnes trusts me. And if there is anything I've learned from how she treated me at the start, if at any point I ever do cross the line and become a threat to the princess, Agnes will surely cut me down."

Of course, that's exaggerated, but I suppose it still holds. I don't think Agnes would straight up murder me, but if she sensed that I was doing something that would be detrimental to Henrietta, she'd confront me about it. Considering how easily she can get me alone, it wouldn't be hard for her to confront me one on one and make a snap decision then and there.

"Then… if you have nothing to hide, let me see what the princess sent you!"

I suppress the urge to sigh, turning away. "Very well, come along. However, I reserve the right to hide things if it ends up being sensitive information that you shouldn't know."

"And how do I know you won't just hide what you don't want me to see?!"

"You'll just have to trust me. Or do you not have faith in both Agnes' and the princess' ability to gauge things for themselves?"

That quiets her down as we walk to my temporary quarters in the inn.

Enclosed in the package, which is itself not very large, is both a letter and something else that's wrapped. I decide to read the letter first, since it will likely explain the package.

"_Oliver,  
"I hope you are doing well. News of your accomplishments has reached even back here and you've become quite the topic among commoners and nobility alike. I wish I could be there to wish you well to every battle myself and I do miss both your and Agnes' company. But, with your hand, I would hope that the war would be over soon.  
"Ah, but I should not talk of such gloomy things. I am sure it has already taken its toll on you. Well, I say I should move away from such things, but the package that this letter comes in contains something you may find useful. The leftover musketeers uncovered it when intercepting a nobleman's caravan attempting to smuggle weapons to Albion.  
"It was found in a small box that bore a name similar to what you call your elite squadron. It seems we will have to conduct a better audit of the security of our own supply rooms.  
"Lastly, if you see Louise and Saito, please wish them well for me. I would love to send a letter to Louise as well, but it is far easier to get a hold of you.  
"I pray to the Founder for your safe return, all of you._

"_Princess Henrietta of Tristain."_

Inside the package is… oh, _that_ is useful indeed. In fact, this might play to what strategies I advise in the meeting later.

When I remove the wrapping on the rather hefty box, I notice that indeed, it bears the engraving of _G&K _on it. It seems to be unopened, as well, without much damage taken directly to the box.

"Well, it seems it was nothing but recovered special equipment." I say, trying not to smile at Henrietta's sleight of hand, should the letter have been intercepted. "Do I have your trust, Lady Vallerie?"

"Explain what they are." She demands.

Before I can answer, I see Vallerie tense up as PPK lightly places her hands on her shoulders. "Now then, little miss, is it quite right for a woman to be demanding all the secrets of war from a general? Let us say that this box contains the means to win the war. Are you prepared to keep that secret?"

"I-if it's for the princess, yes!"

"Then, if the enemy captures you, like they _might _have had we _not _rescued you, and they torture you—" PPK says, slowly increases her grip strength most likely, as Vallerie's face starts to slowly become more stressed. "—are you prepared to keep that secret?"

There's a slight pause, enough where Vallerie could try to squeak out a response, but anything she said was cut dead by PPK releasing one of her shoulders and cupping Vallerie's face from behind, her hand carefully running across the poor girl's face. Almost as if PPK were inspecting a priceless porcelain doll.

"Even if they cut you," She starts as a single finger runs from Vallerie's forehead down past her right eye, PPK's finger taking care to hover _just_ far enough over Vallerie's eye where it wouldn't be in any danger, "torture you," PPK's hand then suddenly grips Vallerie's chin and gives a light squeeze, causing the pinkette to eep, "and bu—"

"PPK." I say, with the Doll in question releasing her grip. "I understand what you are trying to convey, but remember she is still a child."

"Yes, of course, sir. Forgive me, but I simply wanted to convince her." PPK says, curtsying.

"Even if she is a soldier under your command, you should make sure your servants do not so inappropriately talk like so!" Vallerie says, her fire returning to her as PPK returns to my side.

"You misunderstand. PPK is not my servant, that is simply how she chooses to dress and I have no intent of stopping her." I say, PPK nodding with a smile. "Now then, while PPK has voiced her concern, I too, will voice my concern in a hopefully less physical manner. It seems we are separate teams, so it is best that I keep my methods and secrets and you keep yours, as to avoid spreading information more than necessary. Information, after all, is the key to victory."

Vallerie opens her mouth to make a comment and I get the feeling that Hiraga wants to argue as well, but a simple chilling smile from PPK stops both of them in their tracks. Quickly making an excuse to leave, Vallerie huffs and commands Hiraga to do so, with him following.

"Was that necessary?" I ask as the door closes behind them.

"My apologies, sir. But I thought it was the quickest way to get them off of your back." PPK says, giving another curtsy. "Perhaps there is something I can do for you in return?"

I shake my head, only suppressing a sigh. Goodness, it really does seem like all the talk of PPK dolls having a sort of domineering inclination was true.

"I suppose objectively speaking, if you could scare them out of the war entirely, that would be well. I'd rather them not be on the battlefield at all. However, if you can't do that, you'll only rattle their nerves for the upcoming battles and make them more vulnerable."

"I understand, sir. However, it was the fastest way of getting her to stop digging."

"Speaking of digging, Commander. May I ask a question?"

"Go for it."

"For someone who... well, allow to be so frank, unladylike as it is, but you seem so reluctant to engage in war. But today, that soldier who attacked you. No hesitation from you. You moved so swiftly, for a human commander."

I bite my lip, trying to think about to say.

"I just wished to perhaps... find my curiosity satiated, Commander~ Springfield puts so much faith into you and your love of not having to fight. I just want to make sure she'll be fine. After all, she's not here right now and it'd be nice if someone else backed up your statement."

That's a low blow and you know it, PPK.

"There's only one rule in war, a rule my mentor taught me. Survive. At the end of the day, it's going to be us or them. I am... _not fond_ of the taking of life. But before I came to Griffin, I had a military history for a bit. Fighting each other isn't something I'm unused to, nor is the concept foreign to me. So while it's in me to take a life, it's not something I do without understanding the gravity of the situation. And more importantly, I understand the burden that I'm putting on you. The defenders of humanity, and here I am commanding you to kill humans. I think that... perhaps if I am to order such a thing, that I be willing to commit the act myself, or I am simply using you as tools, and not by your side as comrades."

"I see. Well, Springfield should be happy with that response, as will Spectre. Thank you, Commander, for your explanation."

I try not to breathe a sigh of relief.

"I'm glad to hear it. Now then, about opening this box…"

It's more like a small crate, so at the very least, we're able to pry it open using the fact T-Dolls are much stronger than humans, as PPK is able to get through it rather quickly.

Two NVGs, two suppressors, and what appears to be some sort of ghillie suit. Similar to GK Team… a Griffin supply crate? This must've been a package requested for a rifle's nightops kit. Then again, it's not so strange to think it could have turned up here, considering how a Zero fighter from World War Two ended up here.

The great thing is of course, Griffin's equipment. Most of it was specially made to be modular; that is to say, any T-Doll could equip it with a few exceptions. Upon detecting which gun it was to be installed to, it would configure itself for use. This made things such as exoskeletons and sights transferable between T-Dolls, which was incredibly useful for when your base became larger and you were fielding multiple teams. If Team A was in repairs, their equipment could still be transferred to Team B, who could go in there with a better fighting chance.

The only real exception to this were the specialized ammunition, as that was still keyed to the gun in use. But this means that we have a suppressor for Springfield. Even if it weren't like that, this still heavily increases our night operation capability. Even PPK's eyes seem to light up upon seeing them.

"My, my, it seems that things are looking up."

"Now if only we had some explosives." I mumble, earning a smile from PPK. "We could cripple their supply in one swift blow."

"We'd still have a lot of mages to deal with, wouldn't we? Not to mention that they have a supply port."

"Yes, that's true, but on the other hand if we target their commander's camp…"

"We can swiftly eliminate their chain of command or at least shake it up."

"I think targeting the food supplies is a smarter idea. If anything, it'll force resources that would be devoted elsewhere to holding Saxe Gotha. If they don't resupply, then we hold the advantage. If they do, we've bled out some of their resources."

"The timing is tricky."

"We'd need information regarding whether or not the enemy is actively using the port at Saxe Gotha."

"Well Commander, it seems that we've gotten quite the recon mission. Preferably taken at night."

"Heh. I'll just have to convince the others to go ahead with the plan. It's going to take time to march down to Saxe Gotha. I only wish we had a satellite."

"That's incredibly wishful thinking, isn't it?"

"Indeed. Find the others, I'll watch over the equipment here, and we'll talk about the strategy I'll propose at the meeting."

* * *

The meeting goes… smoothly, I suppose, though there were plenty of snide remarks from Tristain's generals sent my way. However, I managed to secure our mission.

"Does it fit?" Springfield asks, trying on the ghillie suit.

"Like a glove." I say to the T-Doll who now looks like a walking heap of browned grass and leaves.

"You look like a swamp monster." Agnes mumbles from the side. "Please ensure that you _never_ approach me in that _thing._ Or for that matter, the princess."

Springfield only giggles as she raises her arms, indeed making her look like a swamp monster of horror. "Oh come now Enfield, just a hug is fine, isn't it?"

"You know, Enfield…" Spectre says, "I didn't think you'd be the type to be scared of that sort of thing."

"It isn't so much fear as it is just unsettling to watch a walking _bush_ with arms and legs stalking towards you."

At this, Springfield starts walking towards Agnes in a clearly staggered and exaggerated motion, prompting snickers from PPK.

"Alright, enough fooling around. Anyways, the mission is fairly simple. We're going to go in as the advance scouts."

"So the cannon fodder." Agnes darkly grumbles.

"That's what I'm sure plenty of Tristain's generals are hoping after we showed them up." I say, chuckling. "Gautier will fly us in ahead of the army about three fourths of the way, but from there, we're on foot. Our first objective is to find a good hole to hide in. After that, we'll be gathering data at night. During the day, we'll use the suit to move around covertly and observe their shipping patterns. Lastly, if we can spot a good opening into the city, our final objective will be to move in and eliminate their command structure and destroy supplies. No civilian crossfire is allowed."

"That goes without saying." Springfield says, nodding.

"It'll also give us a chance to train Enfield with use of the NVGs. Springfield, you'll be in charge of the ghillie suit, you've got the best eyes for recon. PPK, Spectre, the suppressors go to you. We'll switch out NVGs as necessary on the field. Due to this being mostly nightops, Springfield and PPK will be the main team. Spectre, you're communications with them, to keep us informed. Enfield, you're with me, watching our temporary base." I say, spreading the map out on the table. "We've got several rally points to link up with the army as well along with various code words."

After that, I go over the general mission details, such as our schedule of observing the enemy and based on other scout reports, where we might be able to find a hole in their patrols and defenses.

It would be quite useful if we could take out those towers, but I assume that the upper leadership wanted to capture them rather than lay waste to the entire city, which is why their destruction is not part of our objectives.

Unfortunately we don't have Gautier's air support either, which has been invaluable in our previous missions. If they flew in low and hugged the edge of the island, they might be able to avoid any air patrols and come up with a sneak attack on the port when we make a distraction.

Well, ultimately I guess it's always up to us. Regardless, if we can take Saxe Gotha, the war will almost be finished. The enemy's last stronghold will be the capital of Albion and with the supply line for us set and secured, with winter coming up, food is going to be running short on this island. Starving the enemy into submission won't be too difficult, I think, based on what I've heard, anyways.

The next day, even before the sun rises, we're already flying out. Our equipment packs consist of mostly survival gear, with all of us having traded out our usual clothes for more earth-grassy colored ones, along with an extra coat to weather out the frigid nights. As for food, we'd mostly have to hunt that ourselves, but we were given enough that if we spaced out our meals, we should be good to go as long as we met at the first rally point.

Gautier and his squad are carrying us, flying in low to the ground to avoid detection, and we're not following the roads, sticking somewhat close to the mountain.

"Good luck." Gautier says after dropping us off, saluting. "Going to miss having your support."

"Same here. Stay alive, will you? I'll need you during the siege."

"Ha! I can say the same to you!"

With that, he takes off, heading back to where they came from. It's still dark out, so it's incredibly hard to see for now, but my eyes still have adjusted already so I can make out my team.

"GK Team, sound off."

"Enfield, reporting."

"Springfield, present."

"Spectre, ready."

"PPK, at the ready."

"Alright, let's move out towards Saxe Gotha. Springfield, PPK, equip NVGs and keep us posted. Let's go."

It's definitely a… strange sort of sensation as we walk along. I've had my fair share of night operations before, but I've never physically been on the ground for them. It's always been inside the base itself, watching with a keen eye and directing my Dolls as the situation changed. But something about being here with them feels good.

Dawn turns to day, day turns to night, and a few more times the cycle repeats as we continue to advance, keeping to the forests as best as we can. The rule of "no campfires" is in effect to avoid detection, so it's cold as hell during the nights despite our coats and sleeping bags.

When the sun's out, we have to make a few rudimentary shelters under the forest canopy to rest in, as we save movement for after nightfall in order to avoid detection. Fortunately most of these trees are evergreens, or at least look similar, giving us plenty of cover.

"These things are incredible." Agnes mumbles during a midnight march, taking off her NVGs and handing them to PPK, as she was spending some time learning how to use them. "And these came from your world? I can't imagine what warfare must look like."

"I try not to think about it either. Either way, I think we're almost there."

At approximately three hundred hours, Springfield announces she sees a break in the forest. All of us come to a stop and crouch down, taking cover behind the trees.

"Commander, the clearing is about approximately one hundred feet out, twelve o'clock. How approach?" Springfield asks, everyone looking to me.

"PPK, I need the NVGs. Springfield, you're with me, we're going to just go and take a look. Crouch until fifty feet, then we'll go prone and crawl the rest."

"Sir."

It smells like cold dirt, unsurprisingly, as we edge our way closer and closer. Not exactly to the clearing, but close enough to where we can see past it. Bingo, that looks like the city of Saxe Gotha.

I take a look at my compass, checking our direction. The city is due north east of us. From here, I can make out at least three entrances. One to the north, two towards the east. If we're going to infiltrate it, it looks like we'll have to take one of the two eastern entrances to slip in, as the northern entrance looks heavily guarded. That, and there's no easy way to get in, as the main road connects to it.

"Spot anything useful to infiltration, Springfield?"

"No sir, but I've identified the anti-air towers. They're big structures, look almost like skyscrapers. Tally one at two o'clock."

That's definitely not just an anti-air tower, that's more like an anti-air _platform _with how big it is.

"Confirm sights on at least cannons and ballistas at the top?"

"Affirmative, sir."

And they've got _eight_ of them stationed up. Archers probably are stationed on there as well, to ward off anyone like Gautier from just flying up and messing with them. Not to mention those things are multi-level, they'll make assaulting the streets a nightmare if they can rain down from up top.

"Alright, let's observe the patrols for a bit and note down when they exchange guards at the eastern entrances. After sunrise, let's keep on the down low until we can get in closer. Get all ghillied up."

* * *

**And that's a good place to end it for now.**

**Approaching the end of my sort of first planned arc, I'd say, since it links up well with where Season 2 of FoZ ends.**

**Not too much to say about this chapter. It's been a while though, so I hope you're all having good luck with the event right now. I've been retired from GFL for a while which is why updates are kind of slow, haha. I've written a few more chapters after this one, but I'm lazy when it comes to posting them since I spend a bit more time with my other story.**

**Battle scenes aren't exactly my forte, so forgive me if this one seems a little short. I've been doing some experimenting/reading up on seeing how I can try to improve the fluidity/dynamics of the fight scene, but it is a bit difficult when it's all in first person and Oliver himself doesn't do the fighting.**

**I will say there's plans for a rather bigger scene down the line where I'll be trying to go a bit all out, but it'll be a while. I did also struggle for a bit for what equipment to give them, along with Oliver's handwavy-excuse for why I didn't need to specify what T-Doll the equipment was for. Thought it was a good way to integrate how you can swap equipment around between dolls super easily and seemed somewhat believable.**

**Anyways, without that much to say, I hope you all had a nice 4th last week if you celebrate that, and I'll see you all next time.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: **All Ghillied Up

* * *

There's not much I can do but wait anxiously as evening falls, Springfield already having departed in her suit. I wish I had a radio transceiver that I could use to communicate with her, but unfortunately we're stuck with me using Spectre as a medium. As to minimize chances of detection, we're not using the speaker mode we utilized during the assault on the Academy, so that way Spectre can choose what to say and when to say it.

"It's downright terrifying how you can't see her. We'll have to find more of those things when we get the chance." Agnes says next to me, also concealed in the treeline with me.

"That's wishful thinking." I say back, hearing a snort of amusement in return.

"Springfield, remain still. Tally enemy patrol of three on your seven o'clock, fifty feet." Spectre says, looking through her pair of NVGs. "Commander?"

"Move when she's behind them and it's safe to advance."

"Copy. Forwarding to Springfield."

"It's also incredibly convenient that they can communicate without vocalizing it. Actually, it feels almost like straight up cheating. You should've told me when you mentioned what they were."

"Sorry, it must've slipped my mind since we generally act as a full squad." I mumble.

"True."

"Commander, Springfield is in position. She also said something about 'Kept you waiting, didn't I?'"

"Solid copy. Have her begin monitoring."

"...Roger. Springfield has begun monitoring."

Right now we're just trying to gather some data. Figure out what the patrols look like, what a possible vector into the city could be. It's a long and tedious process, but we'll need to do it.

PPK is sneaking off as well, but she's moreso positioned up higher when she can look for incoming airships. They're pretty massive, as it is, so it's not hard to see them coming in from the sky. Similar to airplanes' collision lights, they've got torches and lanterns on their decks, making them light up fairly easily in the sky.

"Commander, picking up some dots."

"Spectre?"

"Estimating it's a patrol of dragon knights coming from a return trip. Similar formation to when we were up in the mountains."

"Got it. Let Springfield know to hold still."

"Understood. All units, Spectre. Confirm dots coming in from northwest, over?" There's a pause. "Commander, PPK and Springfield confirmed, and Springfield is holding position."

I glance towards the sky, looking at the cloudless darkness above. Does look like I can spot some kind of movement, but it's hard.

"What are those 'dots' you keep mentioning, anyways?" Agnes asks, glancing around.

"Well, I said they were like advanced golems, right? They have to know how to determine friend from foe."

"Ah, I see."

"No further questions?"

"I'm just thinking that it's useful they can determine it from such far a range."

I hold back a chuckle, very thankful that radar doesn't seem to be a concept in this world. If it was, and the enemy had radar warning receivers, they would be able to tell they were being picked up on. I suppose it isn't the strongest radar in the world, but they were equipped with relatively short ranged ones to detect Sangvis forces more easily instead of just visual reliance.

After a short while, I can see the dragon knights landing in.

"Springfield is requesting permission to move to a better angle."

"Hold. If they're coming in, then there's likely a patrol to replace them."

A few minutes later, just like that, indeed another dragon knight patrol leaves the city. I wait until they're beyond visual range before allowing Springfield to move in closer to the northern entrance.

Based on the reports that come through the night, there don't appear to be any airships. They've still got a land supply route, so they're likely utilizing it while they can, meaning there don't have to be any airships diverted to supply runs. Which means of course, we can intercept them. Shame we can't suppress the muskets Agnes gave us, or we could stealthily take out the entire supply chain.

Regardless, we continue to observe their patterns of searching cargo coming into the city. It seems all cargo is left just outside the gates, where it is then inspected thoroughly before being brought in by soldiers inside the city. The merchants never seem to enter the city, meaning that only those who are already trusted can bring cargo in. No chance for us to slip in through a smuggled shipment, I think, or at least it's not a good option. Too risky.

"Enfield, what are the chances we can make a dent in the walls with an explosive?"

"They're likely magically reinforced. You're going to need a lot of mundane explosives to break through them."

"And we don't have the time nor expertise to tunnel underneath them. Tch. Getting inside the city is going to be pretty difficult. I wish we could utilize airpower, but that'd give away our…"

"Commander?"

"I've got something, maybe. We'll look into it tomorrow. Spectre, have PPK monitor for air patrols and get me a schedule on when they seem to come in and out."

"Copy, sir."

The hours tick on, with nothing much of note coming up until about one hundred hours.

"Sir, Springfield's hailing us."

"What's she got?"

"She's picking up something and claims they seem to match T-Doll signatures."

"Have her reach out to them and hail them. Use the channel Griffin had for us to identify each other on the battlefield rather than an open one, in case it's the worst." I say, feeling the excitement course through my veins. If we can secure additional firepower, let alone have some more intel with T-Dolls who have been wandering here, it'll really give us an edge.

"They're not responding… and according to Springfield, they're moving away. No response."

That basically seals the deal; there's something here that can pick up on those broadcasts and likely understand it. If it had been an open channel, I doubt it would've run away if it was Sangvis. The only thing that potentially scares me is if it was a Ringleader, but I'm hoping that isn't the case.

"I see. Let's keep observing, we can't do much without any more data."

There's not much else of note for the rest of the night, with Springfield quietly returning to our camp at about six hundred hours, just before the sun is going to start rising in about an hour. We've all been up for some time save for Agnes, who took a power nap and is the first one to take watch while the rest of us recuperate.

However, our data is pretty solid. So far, it doesn't seem like a direct infiltration is going to be possible. Their inspection of each of the carriages is basically stripped down to the very last crate. It's a slow process for them, but this is one of their last strongholds. They can't afford a mistake.

No airships, either. But, we've got to find a way into the city. Or do we…?

"Springfield, during our next recon gathering, I want you to go to the tower closest to the edge of the island."

"Sir?"

"We might not be able to get into the city, but we can still get a decent vantage point."

"Oh, I see." She says, smiling. "That's a bold strategy."

"It's all we've got."

* * *

"Sync clocks." I say as we see the dragon rider patrol leaving visual airspace, having taken off from the city.

All of us do so, with Springfield being the first to turn away. It's well into the night and almost into the dawn, approximately four hundred hours.

"Good luck, Springfield."

"Thank you, sir."

With that, we see her off, Springfield crouching low in her ghillie suit under the cover of night. With PPK acting as our guard along with us verifying that the patrols don't seem to come out this far, Spectre has switched to speaker mode, allowing me to communicate directly with Springfield in real time.

"_Springfield, passing waypoint one."_

"Copy, Springfield. Continue mission."

The timing is really bad, but it's about the only way we're going to get a glimpse of their commanders. Springfield identified them two days ago after climbing up on the furthest tower and observing them, disguised as a piece of moss that was starting to form on the tower, along with remaining mostly out of sight.

PPK, by observing the flight paths, was also able to determine roughly where their blind spots on the tower would be, giving Springfield an easier time to climb, which had been instrumental in determining their commanders, anyways.

Regardless, this was going to be our one chance. Having identified where they would be due to what appeared to be their living quarters in the city, Springfield was now advancing with her suppressed rifle. Only wish she had a scope to really seal the deal, but I had given her authorization to expend as much ammunition as she wanted.

"_Springfield, arriving at waypoint two."_

"Copy, Springfield. Begin the climb."

Despite the sun rising soon, there's still enough darkness where Springfield can climb unnoticed in her ghillie suit. Not to mention that because the ramparts have blind spots because the tower obscures their view, she can climb up without much issue. Plus, the tower is roofed in order to prevent against dragon riders simply going up and obliterating everyone manning a tower, meaning she can get a comfortable vantage point quite literally over our enemies' heads.

There's just one problem, and that is the further tower, the one Springfield is climbing, doesn't give enough of a viewpoint for her to get a clean shot off. Not to mention that Springfield is able to shave off much more distance if she goes to the next tower, lowering the range she's firing at, meaning a more likely kill.

"_Springfield, arriving at waypoint three."_

That means she's on the top of the tower. Here comes the trickiest part.

Based on what we observed, it's about a hundred and fifty yards between the towers. A lot of distance to cover… and a lot of distance to get caught.

"_Commander, requesting permission to engage and eliminate the tower's guards."_

"...denied. We're here ahead of schedule, hold."

"_...copy, sir."_

"I know you want to get into position, but we've got to take this nice and slow. It's twenty minutes until the shifts change. Wait it out."

It's a heart-pounding twenty minutes as we wait, both making sure no enemy patrols surprise us, but also waiting for that crucial window to open up.

"Springfield, confirm guards have changed shifts?

"_Confirming guards have changed shifts, just like our gathered intel said."_

"You're free to engage. Silently, no firearms."

"_Copy, Commander. This will be just a second."_

It's about thirty seconds later before I hear Springfield's voice again.

"_Enemy squad of five downed, not a sound was made."_

"Terrifying."

"_Even so, it pains me as someone made to protect humanity."_

"I know. Sorry for putting you through it. Make sure to hide the bodies somewhere."

"_Thank you, Commander. Proceeding with the mission as soon as I do so."_

With that tower's guards eliminated, Springfield can move unwatched, with the only real threat being the guards on the ramparts and the next tower. With only an hour to go, Springfield's going to have to move quickly.

Somehow, though, as she continuously advances, at one point hanging off the ramparts and scuffling over right above the guards at a gate, I feel more tension than I ever did during my usual operations at Griffin.

At six hundred and thirty hours…

"_Springfield, arriving at waypoint four. Readying the shot."_

"Copy, Springfield. Hold position and take aim. You are authorized to use _all_ means at your disposal."

"_Understood, sir."_

I watch, with ever fading patience, as the clock continues to go on by. It's almost seven hundred hours, now.

"Springfield, target?"

"_I have visual on the target. From previous observations, it appears to be their second in command. I do not have eyes on what we observed to be their first in command."_

Cheh, that's not good…

"_Sir, we have a narrow window. I'm going to lose visual in forty one seconds and counting down."_

Alright, come on. This is already a good way to shake them up, but I'd rather attempt to decapitate their army by taking out the head. Taking out a second in command might affect the first, but overall I'd do more damage waiting for the head honcho himself as no doubt, with what I've observed, the petty squabbles of nobles will cause them to collapse in on themselves.

"Springfield, hold fire until fifteen seconds before losing visual. If you do not have eyes on their first in command, take out the second in command and bug out."

"_Copy, sir."_

It's the best we can do for now.

"_Sir."_

"Springfield?"

"_There's a problem."_

"Go ahead, we're losing time."

"_The second in command is carrying a child in his arms, cradling her close to the chest, now. It seems to be his daughter. If I take the shot, we risk collateral damage."_

Why would there be a child here…? Shouldn't anyone who comes to war know better?

But… Tristain's momentum is starting to really swing up in this war. As it were, there's Saxe Gotha and then the former capital left. The air corridor is likely occupied, preventing an aerial escape. That means that likely… this is that commander's home city.

A ground evacuation should be possible as well, but I couldn't say where they'd go. They could go to the former capital, but I don't know how long it's going to take to travel by ground, and then they risk capture. It's not exactly going to be easy.

But regardless, even with a child here, we could shake up this war...

I take a breath, reminding myself of who I am. We risked a lot doing this and with the bodies that are going to be found, we definitely won't get a second chance as they go on high alert. But I'm… not the demon lord that my mentor and friend was.

"_Commander, I'm awaiting your orders."_

"Are there any other hostiles in the area?"

"_I see his guards."_

We could try to cause a panic and have them run to safety, but I feel that he'll carry his daughter in his arms to safety, meaning that we can't just eliminate the guards to cause said panic.

"Do not fire yet."

"_Losing visual in seventeen seconds."_

I see Agnes looking at me out of the corner of my eye as I clench my fists. It's damn hard to let it go, but I don't know how I'll live with myself if Springfield hits the kid. How she'll live with herself, either. However, when I look at Agnes' face, well… I wish I could say I saw some kind of encouragement that I was doing the right thing, but there was nothing on her usual impassive, emotionless stare.

"Springfield, withdraw. There's no point staying and endangering yourself any longer."

"_I'll remain to the end, sir. Just in case the commander pops up."_

* * *

Unfortunately, in the end, the commander did not show himself, leaving us only with a raised alarm and several guards killed. Springfield herself was able to extract safely, but overall there's still a feeling of defeat.

"You made the right call, Commander." Spectre says as we sit around, hidden in the forest bathed in moonlight.

"Not much we can do now, though. Most we can do is take a look at what the patrols look like tomorrow and see if how much security's been tightened." I say, leaning back against a tree.

"But, you know…" Agnes says from the side, sitting down as she returns from her patrol. "...you shouldn't be talking to us. There's someone who definitely deserves your company right now."

"That's right, Commander~" PPK's voice says, also returning. "She's waiting for you."

Well, guess I just have to man up, don't I?

I get up quietly, to the encouraging smile of PPK, who gives me a light push as I pass by her. About a minute of walking later, I find Springfield sitting on a log, looking up at the moons.

"Hey." I say, getting her attention. Springfield salutes, but I wave her off. "Kept you waiting, huh?"

Springfield turns her gaze back towards the ground as I sit next to her. "Indeed you have, Commander."

"Sorry about today."

"There wasn't anything you could've done, Commander."

"I know, but… there's an odd heavy feeling in my heart."

"I… thank you, though, Commander. For making that call. I can't say if it was the right call; perhaps this war would've ended sooner if we had gone through with it, but thank you regardless."

"Well… I don't know if I could live with myself if we had taken a chance and… missed. Even if it wasn't me pulling the trigger, it might as well have been."

Springfield is silent at that, so I reach over and ruffle her hair a bit.

"I just hope that they're able to evacuate in time."

"Ah, that's true. The army is marching to eventually lay siege to the city, yes?"

"That's the plan." I say, nodding. "With the air corridor occupied, it's not hard to imagine they'll do an aerial evacuation while they still can. And it's not like we can intercept them so easily due to the anti-air platforms still there. If anything, it's going to be quite the brutal slog to break through, as they can send dragon riders to decimate our ground troops while we can't get in too close with our own air power to cover them."

I see Springfield clench her fists at that, so I take hold of her left shoulder.

"You're not at fault, Springfield."

"If, Commander, we lose the siege, and it is due to that general surviving, will you honestly be able to say that to me?"

"We'll find out, should that come to pass. But I have faith, Springfield. Faith in you, our allies, and the GK Team. We will not let all of our sacrifices be in vain. Including tonight's sacrifice."

I slowly move my hand, guiding Springfield's head to my shoulder, where I hear her giggle.

"I thought, Commander, that you did not get involved with T-Dolls because of Griffin policy."

"That is true, but we are not involved, are we, Springfield? This is me offering some comfort as I can. That, and I am no longer affiliated with Griffin, so I suppose I am free to do as I wish."

"My, Commander, that almost sounds like a confession."

"Please do not interpret it as such."

"It's fine, I am not doing such, after all." Springfield says as I lift my hand, where she stays leaning into my shoulder. "But you seem quite experienced, doing something like that so seamlessly."

"Well, I too, was a young lad at some point in time." I hear Springfield giggle at that. "So you could say that… I'm just using some of my… _accumulated expertise_, let us say."

"Hehehe, thank you then, Commander, for allowing me to share in it. But, I must confess… I often have begun to wonder why is it we were given such emotions."

"Well, many of you come from places of human service, don't you? It makes sense to be able to empathize with people, in a sense."

"Then… why do we continue to have them, knowing we'll be sent out against the Sangvis?"

"...I don't quite know, Springfield. Emotions can be a dual-edged sword at times. At times, when things we hold dear are threatened, our emotions can flare up and cause us to perform miracles and tasks beyond our wildest belief. But sometimes they can also cause us insecurity, hindering our resolve, and can cause us to trip up on the simplest of things. Ultimately, I never really questioned it. It wasn't that important to me."

"I see."

"To me, it was just another part of the job, of things I dealt with. I knew that someone in my position wouldn't be able to change things, so I did what I did. If the T-Dolls under my command were to have emotions, then so be it. I will listen to them, comfort them, and help them understand matters of the heart, as someone who had lived and experienced many of those things before I had met them. A wise man once told me, after all, that the less time you focus on things you can't control and more on what you can, the more fulfilling your life will be."

"It seems to me that you have had many wise people give you advice in your life."

"I've made many mistakes, so I had to be taught, after all." I say, getting a chuckle out of Springfield. "Regardless, please do not blame yourself for anything today, Springfield. If there is a semblance of guilt forming within you, then I'll ask that you take that feeling and know it well. When the time comes for us to storm that city, use it as fuel to fight harder, because all of you can save many lives just by fighting. Promise me that."

"That is unusually bold, coming from you, Commander."

"There are times I cannot be so passive, Springfield. This is one of those."

"I see, Commander. Well… I cannot say I am upset."

Due to how we're positioned, I can't really see Springfield's expression, but the mood somehow feels lighter.

"I'm glad. If there's ever anything else you'd like to talk about, I'll make some time for you. For now, we should rest. We've got to start making our way to the rally point, after all."

As I start to get up, I feel a hand on my leg.

"Springfield?"

"...may I have ten minutes of your time, Commander?"

"It's not like you to be so indirect, Springfield." I say, chuckling back as I sit back down. "But very well, I can spare ten minutes. Let us hope our enemies can do the same."

The time slowly ticks on by. The forest is dead silent in the winter, where not even the breeze disturbs us. Springfield remains almost perfectly still the whole time, just resting. Today must've been a very stressful day for her.

As it was back home, T-Dolls didn't have to worry about things like this for the most part. Our enemies were the Sangvis, pitted against the T-Dolls. Almost everyone was disposable, able to be rebuilt without a second thought. There wasn't anything to really weigh, for the most part. In a way, it felt almost like a game. But I suppose that's because lives weren't at risk every day, on that field. There weren't human settlements we were protecting, there weren't towns we were fighting to keep out of Sangvis hands, there weren't living, breathing people close to the battlefield that needed us to win or they'd all die.

And for the T-Dolls, it was incredibly rare for them to have human opposition. They were made for taking care and servicing us, after all. While they've all taken to fighting soldiers rather well, it's likely due to the mindset that we've all been ingrained with. An enemy soldier is an enemy soldier, whether it be Sangvis or a living person. As long as they're posing a threat, they need to be dealt with. But even so, thinking of potentially ending an innocent person's life, an innocent non-combatant's life, is definitely… not something T-Dolls think about, or should _ever_ have to think about.

I quietly apologize to Springfield, who doesn't hear me. I'm sorry for putting you through this, Springfield.

"Springfield."

"Commander?"

"...do you mind telling me about why you were given Anti-Human protocols in the first place? As I recall, you were hesitant to tell me before, but I thought maybe you would like to say it now."

"Ah… well, it wasn't anything like this, Commander. It was meant just to be a very simple mission."

"I assume it turned out anything but."

I hear a giggle from Springfield, who still remains leaning on my shoulder. "Well, our targets were some… very foolish people who thought they'd sneak into the area to try to get their hands on tech to sell it off. They were assumed to be well armed and well funded, likely organized crime."

"I suppose it would take someone with considerable wealth and connections to even be able to successfully infiltrate the general area, yes."

"So, we were given those protocols. But perhaps we were just unlucky, in that as we were assaulting their hideout, the Sangvis attacked as well. A particularly larger group, too. I suspected a Ringleader wanted something from that base and was waiting for us to be off-guard due to the prior fighting, but we were unable to visually confirm one's presence. Regardless, they had those artillery roller units, and well… I'm here now."

"I see. Thank you."

"Was there any particular reason you wanted to ask?"

"Well, I just wanted to understand what you were going through, I suppose, or at least try. Having those protocols means you were going to turn your weapons on a human, so I wanted to know if you were used to that sort of thing."

"Ah… no, not at all. We were only given the mission due to its time sensitivity and that we were the closest group in the area. There was nothing special about it."

"Ahhh, I see, I see."

"I've already… become accustomed to it, as well, when I fought with Agnes. But we very much had the luxury of fighting criminals utilizing lethal force. There was no ambiguity to the situation."

"That is indeed a luxury."

"So, you don't need to worry about me freezing up when it comes to time to fight again. But, I am sure you are already familiar with what I'm going through, are you not, Commander?"

"I suppose humanity has had a rather lengthy history of bloody struggle against their fellow man, yes." I say with a nod. "But… it is one thing to fight amongst your own. I would think it's a different experience knowing you were made to help guard humanity, but then ultimately be commanded to take its life."

"That is true, yes… however, isn't there a parallel in how you were brought here?"

I give a snort of amusement. "I guess there is. Brought here to save one people, by the destruction of another. But I've chosen my side, so ultimately I lay in the bed that I've made. It's just… that's a willing choice I was able to make."

"...that is why I am very glad to have been discovered by you, Commander. Despite knowing that ultimately, we are constrained by your orders, you have done your best to give those orders in consideration of what we'd feel about them."

"Truthfully, it wasn't so selfless. Part of me considered what you would think, but at the same time it was because of what I would think of myself. Like I don't have enough on my plate to think about as it is. I'll take every chance I can to not have another demon haunting my sleep."

"Regardless, I am thankful, and I'm sure the others are, too." Springfield says, leaning more onto me and falling silent.

I don't say anything further after that and decide to just wait out the time. I suppose that for how composed she looks, being the de facto leader amongst the three dolls, that she's still carrying her own weight. But it's fine, as long as I am here, I'll do what I can to lessen her burden.

The minutes of the night continue to tick on by, but soon...

"Springfield, it's been ten minutes."

She slowly leans back, pulling away from me and standing up. "Ha… thank you, Commander. I am… much better now."

"If you don't feel you're ready for combat, don't hesitate to let me know."

She shakes her head. "No, I will be fine. We should move before we're discovered."

"Yes. Let's go."

When we get back, it's fairly obvious we were being watched, as PPK's smirk is too wide for anything good. However, it goes away with an elbow to the ribs from Spectre, who asks "What's the next move, Commander?"

"Obviously we're linking back up with the army. But we're technically a day ahead of schedule, so we're going to spend that day backtracking their caravans. The shipments are coming in almost daily from what we observed, so we're going to cripple that. We've got a map of the general area, and if we somewhat follow the roads, we can trace back where they're coming from. More importantly, we can intercept them and take what we can carry, stash some of it elsewhere, and torch the rest. We might not be able to completely decapitate their forces, but we can starve them out and make it easier for when our army arrives."

"Sounds like a plan." Agnes says, getting up. "Are we moving now?"

"We'll continue night operations, as I don't want to move when we're this close to the city. Once we're far enough away, we'll ease back into daytime operations."

"Understood, sir."

"Anyways, it's been a day. Let's get some rest."

* * *

"This almost feels unfair." I muse as the guards surrounding the caravan fall to the sounds of cascading musket fire. There isn't even so much of a battle as it is a one-sided slaughter, with the only people left standing a minute in just the caravan drivers.

In a few minutes, they're all rounded up and tied down. We're not in a position to really be taking prisoners of war, so we can't take them with us. From the previous caravan that we hit, we found out that most of these caravan drivers aren't even really nobles, they're just the arm of merchant families. They're all commoners who are just looking for a job and can't move to another kingdom due to the war; they'd just be looked under suspicion as a spy, and frankly with the winter setting in, they have to make ends meet somehow.

For the most part, we've let them go once we're done raiding the shipment; whether or not that's a mistake, I can't really say, but I don't have the heart in me to tell the T-Dolls to execute unarmed caravan drivers to keep them quiet about us. We do direct some of them towards Tristain territory, with Agnes playing the bad cop to scare them into doing so. Something about how she'll remember their face as a veiled threat, with the general implication being that she'd return for them if she found they still went to Reconquista controlled territory.

With some asking, it seems that Reconquista is being heavily funded somehow, which is how they're getting merchants to still supply them. It's almost triple what the current market rate is. Though, even if they go and sell it to the Tristain forces, they should still be able to make a profit.

"Looks like more munitions." Agnes says, prying open some more boxes, we're looking for more immediately dangerous things we don't want to risk falling into enemy hands such as ammo. "Got lots of cannonballs and gunpowder for cannons."

I've been having Spectre track where we stash everything, in case we need to go retrieve it later, or at least for the stuff that we can't hand-carry. But, always good to replenish our gunpowder reserves.

I wish we could at least find another Griffin shipment box, but the likelihood of that is fairly low.

Unfortunately, with only a day's buffer, we're only able to hit three caravans during our travels. However, that's still three shipments the enemy won't be receiving and three shipments of supplies we can take for ourselves.

Doubly unfortunate is the mood, though, when we arrive back with our forces and have to report the bad news. I can basically feel the jeers of the nobles as I disclose we weren't able to successfully remove the enemy leadership. I am however, able to report on their caravan guards, their way of guards, positions of the anti-air towers, and a lack of an aerial escape corridor, which prompts an inquiry from me on how our own air forces are doing.

To my surprise, it seems we're gaining an advantage in the aerial front, as their forces are preoccupied with trying to cut off our supply line. We've got to use this moment to take Saxe Gotha to give us an easier resupply point for our own airships to maintain it as well.

I also give the map data that Spectre handdrew for me to present regarding where we stashed what we raided from the caravans, giving a detailed list of all the supplies we've gathered. It seems the senior leadership is happy with that, and that I'll just be awaiting further orders from here on out.

It is more comforting to march with the army, as we're not all by ourselves.

A few days later, though, we're just outside the city limits, looking upon the city we just were infiltrating. As the camp is being set up, I decide to head to one of our elevated hill areas, where I look upon the city walls, lit with hundreds of torches.

"It's going to be a gruelling fight." I hear from my left, finding Gautier walking up next to me. "Even if they weren't on high alert, sieges are always ugly. Not to mention this is where they have to hold their ground."

"It was a mistake to leave this city for second to last. A cornered opponent fights harder." I say, hearing a huff of approval from Gautier.

"Well, we make do with what we have. I heard from the higher ups that we'll be working jointly again, though."

"They're not looping you in with another air wing?"

"Seems that we get results."

"I suppose I'll pass you our communication device, so we can communicate with you in the air."

"Appreciated. We'll be relying on you to keep those anti-air towers out of commission."

"It's going to be very tricky, isn't it?" I ask, chuckling.

"Indeed. But, it seems like we've got company. I'll take my leave."

I turn to look behind us, finding the GK Team there, who immediately salute.

"At ease, girls." I say, all of them relaxing. "What's the occasion?"

"We couldn't find you at your tent, sir." Spectre says.

"I see, I see. Well, we don't have our orders yet, but I'll head back if it'd make you all comfortable." I say, hearing Gautier chuckle as he leaves. "Are you all ready?"

"We are, sir."

I nod, giving them all a glance over. "I doubt we're going to do anything as foolish as a direct assault. We can afford to starve them out for a bit, but then again, I don't know how big their supply cache is."

"Keep in mind we're looking at glory hounds. Even with the pace of the war having slowed down, this is their chance at a big break." Agnes says, the spite in her voice evident.

"That's true. If that's the case… then we may have to have Gautier fly us in fast and hard. Walking across that battlefield is going to be hell."

"Artillery and air power raining down? You don't say."

"Regardless, we'll find a way to make it work. We always do."

* * *

**Next time will be the Assault on Saxe Gotha.**

**Had a bit of fun with this chapter, but I don't have a ton to say. Felt nice to write a more stealthy-ish mission, and since most of the battles have really been "rock paper scissors GUN", I thought I'd put them in a situation that relies more on Oliver's morals being an obstacle and how the Dolls deal with it. After having quite a lot of focus on Spectre in the past, I thought it might be good to put the spotlight on Springfield for a bit here, too.**

**I did find it amusing when I needed to find a balance for Oliver, especially in the caravan situation. I wanted to portray it as Oliver trying to be somewhat pragmatic about it, but also with an element of humanity to it. I think it's definitely an interesting thing to explore, maybe down the line, in that Oliver and the Dolls are more mentally used to dealing with the Sangvis rather than normal human beings. So, while his war logic dictates to just torch the caravans completely and prevent them from making it, Oliver tries to get them to go to Tristain territory to sell their supplies so they can at least still make ends meet. It's a small detail that I ended up spending a lot more time trying to really iron out, as I felt it was really a crux of his character.**

**Either way, not much else to say after that. Next chapter is fairly lengthy as I went for some length on purpose. We're nearing the end of the first arc, so you know, why not go a bit extra?**

**Catch you all next time!**


End file.
